The Cutoff Chronicles: The Dawn of Rebellion
by AmyQueen95
Summary: When Maximum Ride vanished, it was only a matter of time before things fell apart. With a new government taking control and an army of super soldiers flooding the continent, Ella Martinez finds herself in the middle of it all and fighting for survival.
1. Prologue

Hello everybody! Welcome to my latest fanfic, _The Cutoff Chronicles: The Dawn of Rebellion_. In case you didn't know, this story is a prologue to my last full-length story, An Icy Blaze. Don't worry if you haven't read it, though-in fact, go ahead and read this one first. It'll add that extra degree of suspense and discovery to the story. And to those who have read my first CC story, my apologies for the delay; I am fully aware this story is coming a whole year after I promised it would be done. :/ Ah well, it's all done now, so I hope you enjoy all the hard (albeit slow) work I've put into it. Happy reading!

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

"Max, you need to relax."

"Relax!" Max exclaimed in disbelief, "The world as we know it could end next January, and you want me to _relax?_" Her footsteps sounded angry against the damp pavement as she and Fang walked along the empty Seattle street. It had been raining earlier, and if the dark clouds lingering overhead were any indication, it could start raining again any minute. Bad conditions for flying.

"It's not going to end," Fang reassured her, "We won't let it."

"How can you sound so calm! Fang, these people have been building a flippin' army right under everyone's noses—a literal army, _not_ some small, sub-par gang of patchwork Erasers." If she hadn't already been speed-walking, Max would have been pacing anxiously. "They've been planning this for years and we didn't even know it," she muttered, "they've infested the entire continent and _we didn't even know it!_" She felt like crying, but she held back. The last thing she needed then was to become a soppy puddle of emotions.

"We have to get to the Flock and tell them," she mumbled, blinking back tears, "they need to know that somebody's after us." _After me, more like it_, she silently added.

Max tried to pick up the pace, suddenly feeling vulnerable out in the open, but Fang stopped her in her tracks. "Stop it," he told her.

Max looked at him strangely. "Stop what?"

"Acting like this is too big for you to handle," he replied, "you're starting to worry me." There was a slight smirk on his face, but Max knew he was serious. "You saved the world once, you can do it again. You're Maximum 'Save the World' Ride, for crying out loud!"

"It's not that simple," she told him.

"It always was before," Fang answered, "Why isn't it this time?"

"Because," Max sighed, as she started walking again, "I'm not sure if I can do it this time."

"So you're just gonna give up right now—"

"Fang!" Max interrupted harshly, scowling. However, her voice quieted, and she said, "I mean it. I really can't. Not now." The tears threatened to return, and she looked down at the ground bashfully.

Fang stopped her again and tilted her chin up, forcing her to look him in the eyes. This time, though, his expression was softer, more concerned. "Max," he said, in a voice so caring it startled her, "what's wrong?"

"I..." Max hesitated, unsure what to say. _Why is it so hard to tell him?_ Was she really that scared of what Fang would think?

"Please tell me," Fang whispered, pulling her close, "You can tell me anything."

"I know," Max said, resting her head on his chest, "I'm just so... so _scared_. Then the Voice sends us on this stupid mission, and I find out that everyone's lives are in danger, _again_," her voice broke, "and we're still so young, and we've only been married a year—"

"Max, you're rambling. Just tell me what's wrong."

_Oh boy. Here goes nothing._ Taking a deep breath, Max started, "Fang, I—" but before Max could finish speaking two large trucks pulled up alongside them, seemingly out of nowhere. Her jaw clenched when several well-built men jumped out and surrounded them—superhumanly well-built, Max was sure. They all wore matching black outfits; in fact, they had matching everything. They were like clones or something.

"Well this is interesting," Fang uttered unamusedly. He and Max drew apart, both assuming fighting stances.

"Surrender now," one of the clones droned, "and nobody will be hurt. We are authorized to use our weapons if deemed necessary, and are not afraid to use them." Several of them drew knives from their hips, gripping them threateningly.

Shoving all fears and emotions aside, Max growled and said, "You guys sure picked a bad time to show up, didn't you?"


	2. Missing Max

**1 – Missing Max**

"_I wish you guys didn't have to go," I whined, "You just got here, and now you already have to leave?"_

"_The Voice says it's important," Max told me, stuffing the last of her clothes into her backpack. "Believe me, I don't want me to leave any more than you do. Especially since the Voice is being such a jerk about the whole thing." She gave me a slight grin._

_I smiled half-heartedly in response, and said, "But why now? I mean, I thought you got rid of all the bad guys."_

"_There's always going to be bad guys," Max sighed, "and it only takes a few of them to seriously screw up the world. But hey, I mean, at least we're not being directed towards a big, evil science lab or anything this time—we're just investigating a lead in Seattle."_

"_It sounds so straightforward when you say it like that."_

"_Trust me," Max snorted, "it's not."_

"_I know it isn't," I muttered, blushing, "You just make it sound that way. I still think it's so amazing how you guys are able to do this stuff. I know I never could."_

_Max shook her head, smirking. "We're not so special. You'd be able to do this stuff too, if you were in our shoes."_

_I rolled my eyes. "Now you're sounding like Mom, always trying to give me the pep talk." _

"_She's worried about you, know," Max asserted, "she told me you don't think you measure up. Whatever that's supposed to mean."_

"Of course_ I don't measure up," I scoffed, "How can I? You're tough, fearless, and oh yeah, you saved the world as we know it from utter destruction! _And_ you're the pretty one—when you're __trying__ to look decent, anyways. My biggest life accomplishment was when my soccer team went to state. Some achievement, huh? I'm useless." _

"_Ella, you're nuts," she replied, "You're good enough just the way you are. Besides, do you know how many times I've wished that I could be normal like you?"_

"_And do you know how many times I've wished I could do something that's half as amazing as what you've done?" I glared at her slightly, my cheeks burning. I sound like an ignorant brat when I blurt like that, I bet. After all, everyone's always telling me how lucky I am to be the normal one, that if I truly understood the price the Flock has had to pay I'd stop wishing to be more like Max and the Flock. But they don't understand that most of the time it's not the wings or the cool powers I envy, the excitement or the fame—it's the fact that Max has actually done something meaningful with her life, and that she doesn't let anything hurt her. I wish I could be brave and indestructible like her. _

"_Look, Ella," Max answered after a moment, her expression softening a little, "I know it's hard, but don't sweat it. You're still a kid—you have all the time in the world to do something amazing! My life accomplishments just got crammed in a little early." She grinned at me, "Anyways, I like you just the way you are."_

_I sighed, not wanting to discuss the topic anymore. "I'm going to miss you," I told her, reaching over and giving her a hug. Max isn't the huggiest person in the world, but you'd never be able to tell it when I'm hugging her. She's always had a soft spot for her family._

"_We'll be back in a few days," Max assured me, "Besides, I was thinking of asking mom to extend our stay—make it a few months instead of a few weeks?"_

"_That'd be great!" I beamed. I loved it when the Flock stayed with us—after spending most of my life as an only child, I jumped at the opportunity to have six extra siblings lagging around the house. "Any reason you're staying so long?"_

_Max shrugged. "I just want to be near my family for a while. We don't see each other enough, I think."_

_I nodded. "You'd better get going, I guess. I think the others are all waiting for you downstairs."_

"_Did Fang pack all his stuff already?" Glancing into the guestroom closet, I nodded."Well then, I guess we're good to go."_

_We headed downstairs together, where Mom and Total were already in the front yard, saying goodbye to the others. "If you need anything make sure to call," Mom reminded them, "and be careful!"_

"_And bring something back for me," Total yipped, "a little piece of Seattle, to help ease the regret I feel in not accompanying you on your journey."_

_Max rolled her eyes. "Sure thing, Total."_

"_I sure do miss travelling with you six," he continued, "but my husbandly duties demand that I stay close to my darling Akila whenever possible. And you know how upset she gets when I'm absent for long stretches of time."_

"_Trust us, it's no loss on our part," Iggy spoke, impatiently tapping his foot. I smirked slightly; owning a talking dog did have its downsides—like when he gave drawn out apologies and holed up travel plans. Total huffed indignantly, but said nothing more._

"_You guys hurry back," I told the Flock, going around and giving them quick hugs—even Fang, who has all the huggability of a stone statue (unless it's Max doing the hugging). _

"_We'll be back in no time," Max reassured me, Mom and the dogs, spreading her wings and taking off, "Don't worry."_

_And even though I always knew there was a chance I'd never see her again, it was still a shock when she didn't came back._

My eyes flickered open, and I moaned slightly. _Not again. _I kept having that stupid dream, that eerie replay of the past. It came and went, fading from my mind for a few weeks only to make a vivid comeback. And every time I had it, I felt like I was watching her leave all over again. That was the last time I saw Max—and Fang, too. That flashback I had, it happened over six months ago. Nobody has any idea where they are.

Reluctantly I rolled out of bed and looked at the time: it was already eleven o'clock. I frowned slightly; I don't like it when I sleep in that late. I almost wandered out into the hallway in my PJs, when I remembered that the Flock was staying with us—they had been for about a month, since they came back from Seattle. They'd searched the area for weeks, looking for any trace of Max and Fang, but finally they gave up and decided to hang around in Arizona for a while. At least until they got their next lead on Max and Fang's whereabouts.

Everyone was a little distant post-disappearance when they first arrived—you could tell they were all feeling frustrated and guilty that they had to abandon the search—but things were starting to warm up a little. I mean, Nudge still burst into tears from time to time, and both Angel and Gazzy were distant, but considering the circumstances I think the Flock was handling it pretty well. They handled it a lot better than I did, anyways. We were able to talk and laugh a little now, as long as we didn't bring _them_ up. Just saying their names could set someone off.

Quickly I threw on some clothes, got ready in the bathroom, and then went downstairs. No doubt the Flock had cleared the kitchen of most of its edible contents already, but Iggy usually remembered to save me something. Sure enough, when I wandered into the kitchen Iggy was standing there with a full plate of breakfast food. "I heard you get up," he explained, "Here, I already heated it for you."

"Thanks," I said, taking the plate and sitting down at the counter. "So where is everybody?" I grinned, "Usually the noise would've woke me up by now."

"Everyone's out. Angel and Nudge are shopping, Gazzy's who-knows-where, and your mom left with Total and Akila for the airport a couple hours ago."

"Mmm." I'd almost forgotten that Mom was leaving to visit the new CSM project in Kenya. "Do you have any plans for today?" I asked Iggy.

"I was planning on heading to the grocery store," he replied, "to pick up a few things for dinner."

"Want me to go with you?"

He shook his head. "Thanks," he said with a slight smile, "but I'll be fine on my own."

I nodded, then remembered he couldn't see me. "Okay," I told him, "I'll just be hanging out here today, I think, since I don't have school."

"Maybe we could go for a walk later," Iggy suggested.

My heart fluttered slightly at the suggestion. "Sounds great," I told him, trying not to sound too eager.

"I'm leaving right now," he said, "but I'll be back soon." He left the kitchen and walked towards the front door, not once hesitating or brushing against the walls—how does he do that?—and slipped on his shoes and went outside.

I grinned to myself as I ate breakfast. Other than Max, Iggy's my favourite Flock member, and it's not just because I've had a huge crush on him for the last four years. He's probably the most talented person I know—he's a cook, a pyrotechnician, an inventor, a self-defence master, and a survivalist, and all while being blind. He's even exceptionally good at the "being blind" part, what with his superhuman senses. And he's got a great sense of humor. (Plus, who doesn't like a guy with _wings?_)

My favourite thing about him, though, would be how open he's been with me. He tells me things, sometimes: about growing up in cages, about being blinded when he was a kid, about being on the run, all that. He's the only one in the Flock who doesn't try to shelter me from their past, telling me I couldn't handle it or I wouldn't understand. Well maybe I'll never fully understand, but at least Iggy gave me a chance to try. I guess he's used to being underestimated too. And it's not like he's just dumping all his baggage onto me—we'd gab about all sorts of things. We talk about life, hobbies, favourite memories... and the cool thing is, he actually listens. It's nice having someone in the Flock treat me like a peer instead of a tagalong human. I don't stand a chance in this universe at being more than just pals with him, obviously, and I'm not as close to him as the Flock is, but Iggy is definitely one of my best friends—practically family. He's sort of like a cousin, I guess.

Anyways, for the first time in weeks the house was silent, and as I ate my breakfast I took the time to soak the tranquility in. Don't get me wrong, the Flock is great, but sometimes I missed the peace and quiet—and the freedom to choose what was playing on the TV, I realized, as I clicked the television on with the remote to see what was on.

There's also a certain... _stress_, I guess you could call it, which comes with hanging out with the Flock and company. It's easier to explain if I break it down person by person:

**Max:** The incredible, indestructible Maximum Ride. She's strong, confident, fearless, and totally and completely unselfish. Basically, everything I'm not. She's totally my hero, but it's hard living in her shadow. (Of course, I'd give anything to have her back right now.)

**Fang:** He's grown slightly more hospitable over the years, especially since he and Max tied the knot, but he still gives me the creeps sometimes. He has this way of appearing out of nowhere, like a silent shadow, and scaring the living daylights out of me. I think he does it on purpose. (But I'd give anything to have him back, too. After all, he's still family.)

**Iggy:** Even though I'm more comfortable around him than the others, he still drives me crazy on the inside. Do you know how hard it is to be 'just friends' with one of the most amazing (and attractive) guys on the planet? Even if he _didn't_ have wings I wouldn't stand a chance with him.

**Nudge:** Nudge and I have a lot in common, in some ways, but there's always been a distance between us. She likes coming here to feel normal for a little while, but when she and the others are here things seem anything _but_ normal for me. It's hard to relax around her, because when she wants to talk about boys and clothes I'm dying to ask questions about flying and superpowers. I can't, though, because then I'd spoil her little vacation from mutant-dom.

**Gazzy:** He's mostly ignores me, so the only problems he causes is when he blows something up or lets one rip. Of course, those in and of themselves can be terrible, terrible events, but lately he's been in some sort of independence phase, going out on his own lots instead of wreaking havoc around the house. I guess at age twelve he's starting to get moodier.

**Angel:** Angel doesn't like me. At all. I mean, we got along okay when I was thirteen-fourteen, but when Iggy and I got closer she became more defensive. I think she thinks I'm not good enough for him, and frankly, I wholeheartedly agree, but she still freaks me out with all her mind games—and she's gotten worse since Max and Fang dropped off the radar.

**Total: **Do I even need to explain this one to you?

**Akila:** ...I don't have a problem with her, actually. In fact, it's nice having a normal dog around the house—my dog, Magnolia, died last year, and I haven't gotten a new pet since.

Needless to say, I welcomed the empty house with open arms—even if it was empty because everyone was busy, avoiding each other, or had vanished into thin air. Being alone had a numbing effect that let me forget for a little while just how crazy my life had been the last few months. Sitting on the couch, flipping through channels, it was so relaxing, so pleasantly mundane...

...at least it _was_ mundane, until a breaking news report came on saying, _"A massive communications failure has wreaked havoc across the country, with hundreds of flights and ships running to and from North America unresponsive and unaccounted for."_


	3. Taken

**2 - Taken**

"What!" I exclaimed, nearly jumping out of my seat. Missing flights? My mind flickered back to my mom, who was supposed to be boarding a plane right about now. Had something bad happened to her? What was going on! My mind was buzzing—it was as if the entire world had just been flipped on its head.

Seemingly unfazed by what was going on in the world around her, the news anchor continued, _"There's also been reports of a strange weather phenomenon appearing in the sky—a blue, translucent shimmering overhead. Experts are still struggling to pinpoint the source of the phenomenon, but with communications blacked out and many electronic devices and services no longer functioning, it has been difficult thus far to collect information..."_

I turned the television's volume up high, and then ran over to the phone to see if I could get a hold of someone. I panicked a little when I realized the line was dead, but I told myself to remain calm. The news person said there were communications blackouts, but it couldn't be that serious, could it? Maybe there'd been a power blowout somewhere, and it was affecting other services. It's not like the world was about to end or anything.

Was it?

Then I remembered what the news had said about the sky, and I ran over to the window. My eyes widened; it was cloudy that day, but I could see enough of the sky to see that something was definitely off about it. The color was different, darker, and it crackled and rippled, like an ocean of electricity over our heads. I looked into the distance, trying to find the end of the foreign blueness, but I couldn't see any seam in the horizon.

What I did spot in the distance, however, was a vehicle coming up our driveway. I frowned; who on earth could that be? Whoever they were, they were driving a big black truck—almost like an over-sized UPS vehicle. But then I caught a glimpse of the dark-clad men sitting in the front, all of them wearing face-obscuring helmets, and I had the sinking feeling that these guys weren't just here to drop off a couple packages. _They're after the Flock, _was the first thought that popped into my head. What would they do when they didn't find them here?

To compound all the problems, of course, I heard the broadcast coming from the television suddenly change. _"Inhabitants of North America,"_ a male voice began, _"as you have probably already realized, almost all forms of local and international communication have been severed, and airplanes and ships are now unable to cross the ocean due to an electromagnetic barrier that has been erected. North America is, in essence, cut off from the rest of the world."_

I wanted to stick around and stare at the TV in disbelief, but already the men in the black truck were pulling up to the house. I panicked; they were after the Flock, but what would they do if they found me here? According to Iggy, evil henchmen gravitated towards cruelty and sadism; they were not people you wanted to have a run-in with, whether you were their primary target or not. I needed to hide, and fast. But where? I fell back from the window and ran upstairs, looking for a place where I wouldn't be found.

The television was still playing at full blast, and I continued to listen as I scrambled for a place to hide. _"I and the distinguished men and women accompanying me now have joined together in an attempt to create a new civilization, one unlike any other the world has ever known. Do not be alarmed by the sudden presence of our enforcement and collection officers, who have been given the crucial task of ensuring order is maintained during this monumental transition." _I scurried into Mom's walk-in closet and crouched down amongst the clothes and boxes, just as I heard someone enter the house downstairs. Ugh, Iggy must have forgotten to lock the front door!

"_It is also their task to transport the populace's disabled masses to the newly established processing facilities, where each invalid will be properly cared for until such a time when they can serve their new civilization effectively—and that time will come, ladies and gentlemen. Nobody shall miss out on the opportunity to contribute to the formation of this new nation: a new North America to usher in a fresh era."_ Chills ran down my spine as I strained to hear what the person on TV was saying. This was insane. Things like these couldn't really happen, could they?

"Search the entire house," I heard a gruff voice order, "She's around here somewhere." She? Which she were they looking for? Angel, Nudge, even my mother were big kidnapping targets. If that's who they were looking for, they were sorely out of luck.

Still, I didn't want to be found by these intruders, so I covered myself with a nearby laundry pile and held my breath as I listened to them search the entire first floor. How many of them were there, I wondered. More than two, but not so many as ten. Four? Six? I wanted to scream when a couple of them ran up the stairs to check the upper rooms, but I bit down on my lip, willing myself not to whimper. _Don't freak out,_ I ordered myself, _Max wouldn't freak out._ Of course, she also wouldn't have hid inside of a closet either. She would have punched out the nearest baddie and then escaped out a window.

"I'll check the master bedroom," one of the men volunteered. I froze when I heard the bedroom door swing open, and somebody stepped inside. I thought about pulling a Max, trying to incapacitate the intruder and then making a run for it. After all, I was useless to them; they wouldn't waste time or energy chasing an expendable human who happened to slip through their fingers. But I could still hear people moving downstairs, and what in this closet could I possibly use to attack an enemy intruder, the contents of Mom's underwear drawer? I think not.

The footsteps in Mom's room grew closer, and I tensed, praying my body wouldn't do anything to give me away. My mind was in panic mode. What if I hadn't hidden myself well enough amongst the clothes? What if I stuck out funny, or part of my leg was showing? What if—

Then the door creaked open, and all thinking ceased.

"_We do not want to harm anyone in our attempt to create a better society,"_ the propaganda on the television filled the empty space where my thoughts once resided, _"but some people must be put aside for the good of all, and some excesses of life cast aside in order to forge this new world. Do not be afraid, if this is the case for you or your loved ones. Anything our enforcement and collection officers do is for the good of all, in the name of peace, order, and prosperity. Do not be afraid to put aside your life and lifestyle in the name of progress." _

There was a long pause—not in the television dialogue, but in the world as a whole—as the intruder stood at the doorway of the closet. I sat frozen in fear, waiting for him to spot me and drag me out of my hiding place.

Except, he didn't. After a couple of seconds, he abandoned the closet to keep searching.

I felt a pressure release when I heard him turn around and walk away, but I waited another second before allowing myself a quiet sigh of relief. That was close.

"She's not here," I heard my almost-discoverer say, converging with the others at the bottom of the stairs.

"She has to be," another man contradicted, "the tracker says so."

"I'm getting impatient," one of them barked, "somebody bring the tracker in here; if we fine-tune the settings it'll point us right to her."

Footsteps ran out of the house, and then returned indoors a few seconds later. "Here it is, adjusted and ready." I couldn't tell for sure over the noise of the TV, but I thought I could hear a beeping sound coming from downstairs. _A tracking device..._ but what was it tracking?

The intruders scurried as they ran a sweep of the downstairs, muttering amongst themselves as they followed the tracker's signal. "Upstairs," I heard one of them declare, and the group of them ran back to the staircase and stormed back upstairs. I struggled not to hyperventilate. _Please, not again, _I thought, as I prepared myself for the worst.

Even so, I was still startled when one of them cried, "In here!" and barged into my mother's room. I could hear the beeping of the tracker very clearly now, it's sharp, rhythmic tones similar to the sound a metal detector makes when it's close to finding something in the sand. "Search everything," one of the voices, the leader I guessed, ordered.

_What—_but before I could even finish that thought an unbelievably strong hand reached down and grabbed me out of the laundry pile, jerking me to my feet. "Found her!" he declared, forcing me out of the closet so the others could see me. They all wore the same black outfits and visored helmets, giving them a frightening "evil invading forces" look.

"No!" I began, certain they'd gotten me mixed up with someone else, "I'm not who you want! Please don't hurt—" but before I could finish that statement one of them held the tracker up to me, and I winced when it shrilled loudly.

"It's her," he declared, "escort her downstairs to the transporter."

Before I could even begin to comprehend what was happening my arms were pinned behind my back and I was being shoved out the door and into the hallway. The dark troopers—there was four of them—escorted me down the stairs and towards the front door.

It was about then that I began to freak out.

"No, please!" I pleaded, thrashing uselessly against my captor's iron grip, "I'm not who you want!" They didn't want me—they must think I'm a mutant! There's some mistake, there just had to be! _"Do not resist,"_ the man on the TV droned from the living room, _"do not fight the important changes that are happening around you. You cannot fight progress."_

"Stop struggling," one of the men in black growled, "or we will have to sedate you."

"I'm not going!" I shouted, "Don't take me; I'm no good to you!"

"_Everyone has something to offer to the new order,"_ the TV contradicted, _"do not be afraid to serve your new government."_

"_No!_" I screamed, refusing to walk any further. I was dragged effortlessly across the floor.

"Sedate her," one of my kidnappers ordered, "Keeping her conscious is pointless."

"Stop it!" I fought hard, but not hard enough. I felt a needle slide in and out of my arm, and in less than a second the world started going fuzzy. My legs gave out beneath me, and I felt the man restraining me callously hoist me over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. I wanted to scream, wanted to dig my fingernails into his face and scratch his eyes out, but I was fading fast.

The last thing I heard was the sound of the television, which was still turned on in the living room. _"This is a new civilization, a new... a new empire,"_ the man onscreen said, _"yes, a new empire ushered in by a new government—a supreme order of leadership. We are the Supremacy, and we will lead the way into the new world. With your help, we will create our empire."_


	4. Iggy's Discovery

Wow, this is an all-time worst. NO reviews since I posted last? :( This makes me very sad. **  
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><p><strong>3 – Iggy's Discovery<strong>

It had started out as normal trip to the grocery store.

Iggy had been in the canned goods section, looking for beans. Grocery shopping was taking him longer than he'd planned on—they had rearranged the produce section of the store, so it had taken him twice as long to find everything he wanted. He could've broken down and asked someone for assistance, of course, but Iggy was always reluctant to ask for help with these things. That's why he'd turned down Ella's offer to come with him, as much as he enjoyed her company. He liked doing these things on his own; it made him feel self-sufficient. Fortunately, the cans were still arranged the same, so he found the beans easily. Shopping without sight wasn't so hard, as long as you had a great memory.

It was while he was picking out the canned beans that things got very strange. Iggy didn't pay too much attention to it at first—somebody was talking too loudly at the front of the store. Despite his superhuman hearing, the voice was lost on him, nothing but background noise. But when he heard footsteps coming his way, he paused. The steps were strong and paced, almost like a march. The person was wearing heavy boots.

"Please abandon all un-purchased items and return home immediately," he shouted, sounding very soldierly, "Remain inside your house until further notice, and watch your television for additional information." Though puzzled, Iggy did as the man said and headed towards the front door. He could hear the man, and several other men who sounded just like him, patrolling the grocery store aisles, repeating the same command to everyone they encountered.

A large crowd of confused people had pooled at the front doors of the supermarket, and were now trying to exit the store and get to their cars. The sudden rush of people threw Iggy off, and he stumbled slightly as he struggled to regain orientation and find his way out of the parking lot. He needed to circle around to the back of the store so he could take off unnoticed.

"Excuse me," another commanding voice commanded, stopping Iggy in his tracks, "You're going to have to come with me."

"What?" Iggy asked, muscles tensing. "Why?" He wanted to bolt in the other direction, but he decided to play things cool.

"You're severely visually impaired."

Rub it in, why don't you. "Yeah, I'm blind," Iggy snapped, "So what?"

"I have orders to take any and all severely disabled individuals into custody," he stated, "you will be relocated to a comfortable and humane processing center, where your unique needs can be met."

Over my dead body, Iggy scoffed. "Yeah... no. Sorry, I'm not going." He tried to walk away, but the guy grabbed his arm with a big, muscled hand.

"I can't allow you to do that," he droned, "You are a potential danger to yourself and others."

Iggy tried to jerk away from the man's grip, but he couldn't—he was too strong. Too strong for the marvels of genetic engineering? Iggy's heart rate quickened. Whoever this guy was, he wasn't your average G.I. Joe. "I'm sick of this," he growled, swinging his fist at where he guessed the guy's face to be. His target caught the blow with his other hand, and then tried to pin Iggy's arm behind his back. However, Iggy swung his heel back into the guy's shin, and his grip loosened enough for Iggy to pull away and put some distance between him and his assailant. He took on a defensive stance, waiting for muscleman to pull something else.

Then one of muscleman's buddies showed up. "Do not resist," he recited with an identical voice. Iggy scowled; two mega-strong supergoons versus one blind bird guy? Definitely not a fair fight.

"Look," Iggy said, trying to stay out of their attack zone, "I don't want to cause any trouble."

"Then surrender peacefully," one of his would-be arresters (Which one was it? They both sounded the same) suggested.

"Um, I'm going to have to pass on that." Even as he was speaking one of the goons tried to rush him, hoping to catch him off-guard. Iggy, however, had other plans. "Nice try," he said, side-stepping the man and shoving him into his partner. As the two collided with each other and stumbled about, Iggy threw off his coat and spread his wings, taking off as quickly as possible.

"Hate to leave so soon," he called to the two of them, who were surely gaping, "but I'm really not big on the whole prisoner thing. Maybe some other time, huh?" then he took off as fast as he could, anxious to get out of there as quickly as possible. Something was going on around here. Something big.

The flight from the store to the Martinez' house was relatively short, but Iggy spent extra time flying in the other direction and doubling back, just in case someone had tried to follow him. He didn't want to risk bringing back any unwelcome guests with him. When Iggy finally arrived he landed in the front yard and then walked up to the house, itching to tell someone what had just happened. He darted up the porch steps effortlessly, and was startled to find that the front door had been left open. Had he forgotten to close it all the way when he went out? Inside the TV was turned on at full blast, but nobody seemed to be around.

"Ella!" he called, "Where are you?" But nobody was around. Then he heard the mumbo-jumbo that was playing on the TV, and he frowned. Who were the Supremacy, and what was all this talk about a new civilization? This did not sound good. For a moment his mind darted back to Max and Fang—were they somehow connected to this mess? He turned down the volume on the TV, and then checked the phone lines. Dead. Ella had left her cell phone on the kitchen counter he noticed, his hand brushing against it as he put the phone receiver down, and when he tried using it to call Dr. M's cell he couldn't get through. She wasn't answering her phone, it seemed.

"Ella!" Iggy called again, hoping perhaps she simply hadn't heard him over the noise of the television. "Ella, it's me! Where did you go?" Something was wrong here; Ella wouldn't just go off on her own without her phone, especially not when she told him she'd be here when he got back.

I need to find the Flock, he thought to himself.

As if on cue, Nudge, Angel and Gazzy all barged through the front door. "Iggy, did you hear about—" Gazzy started.

"Heard it on the television," Iggy confirmed, shaking his head, "These people are insane." Then he remembered, "You guys didn't happen to see Ella on your way in, did you? She was here when I left, but when I came back the door was open and she was gone."

"Oh." An unusually short sentence for Nudge.

"What?" Iggy asked, impatient. There was a silence in the room, which Iggy guessed meant that the other three were shooting each other looks. But what was happening?

"Iggy," Angel explained, "We found a note taped to the front door."

A note? "What does it say?" Iggy asked.

Nudge read, "'Your contribution to the United North American Empire is greatly appreciated.'" Her voice was stiff, as if she was coming to a sickening conclusion as she read the words. Iggy had a feeling he was coming to the exact same conclusion: Ella had been taken.

"On TV," Gazzy murmured, "they talked about people getting arrested or disappearing. But I thought... don't they only take, you know, different people? Why would they take Ella?"

"I don't know," Iggy muttered, deeply upset, "I really don't know." But whatever the reason, it definitely wasn't something good.

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><p>I woke up with a start, not knowing where I was. Why wasn't I at home, safe and sound in my room? I was lying on the lower half of a bunk bed, except, it was more of a bunk table. There was no mattress or pillow, just a thin wool blanket that covered the plywood surface I had been laid on top of. I looked around, and saw that I wasn't alone. There were other girls huddled on other bunks, and still others who were pacing anxiously between the two rows of bunk beds in the room. The room itself was a strange set-up, with the back wall made of concrete, the side walls made of what looked to be plastic panelling, and the farthest wall was a stretch of fencing that looked a lot like chicken wire. It made the room seem a little like some sort of kennel.<p>

I blinked wearily a few times and slowly sat up, moaning softly as my memory returned. I had been kidnapped by a gang of bozos in bike helmets—and here I thought I was the un-endangered member of the family! But now I didn't know where I was, trapped in a room that felt like a giant cage, away from my friends and my family and—

"Don't cry," a voice next to me said, startling me from my deluge of self-pity, "They don't like it when you cry."

"W-what?" I turned to see who was talking to me. It was a girl my age, with long, sandy hair and a curvy figure. "Who doesn't like it?"

"The guards," the girl explained, pointing towards the chain link wall. Sure enough, a man in a dark uniform strolled past our barrack, a stern expression on his face. He reminded me of the men who had grabbed me out of my house.

"Where am I?" I asked, my fear temporarily replaced with curiosity.

"I don't know exactly," she answered, "but we're in some sort of lab. I'm Meagan, by the way."

A lab? It looked more like a prison camp. "I'm Ella," I replied in turn, "and why are we in a lab?"

Meagan cast her eyes downward. "They came and explained it to us earlier. You're the last one to wake up." Now she looked like the one who was going to cry.

"What did they say?" I asked, a foreboding feeling entangled with my intestines.

"Well you know those bird kids, the ones that used be on the news a lot?"

I know them a lot better than you think. "Yeah?"

"They're going to do that to us," Meagan told me, "or at least try to. Give us wings, I mean." I tried to speak, tried to respond to what I'd just heard her say, but my mouth was numb and I'd lost my breath. When I didn't speak, Meagan continued, "They've developed some sort of virus that's supposed to put the mutant genes into our cells. I guess the idea is that if enough of our cells get mutated, our bodies will change. Or something like that. They've never tested it on humans before, so they don't know what will happen." I could see the fear brimming in Meagan's eyes. "Pretty wacked out, huh?"

"We're going to be experiments," I whispered to myself, as horror stories popped up in my head about the Flock's days at the School.

"They're going to start giving us injections tomorrow," Meagan kept explaining, "but first you have to fill out this form they left—" but I wasn't listening anymore. My gut skyrocketed into my throat, and I looked around desperately for a bathroom. Sure enough, in the corner of the barrack there was a toilet and a sink, and I jumped up onto my feet and ran towards it. As soon as I reached the toilet bowl I doubled over and puked up the contents of my stomach, but even then I couldn't shake the utter terror and disgust that was fermenting inside of me.

They didn't want us to cry, but nobody said we couldn't throw up.


	5. Struggles Begin

Ooookay, so apparently I have actually been getting reviews. *grumbles* Stupid FF changed my notification settings on me. Again. Anyways, thank you to all of you who have reviewed. I have not been forgotten! :')

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><p><strong>4 – Struggles Begin<strong>

"We're going after them," Iggy declared adamantly, itching to leave. "Who knows what they've done to Ella already?"

"But how?" Gazzy pointed out, "we have no idea where Ella or Dr. M are." They'd tried several times to contact Dr. Martinez on her phone, all to no avail, and Ella's phone was still sitting on the kitchen counter.

"Well," Nudge said, "if Dr. Martinez isn't on a plane, won't she still be at the airport?"

Iggy nodded. "I don't think they'd have gotten on their flight yet, so she, Total, and Akila should be stranded there—unless Dr. M was taken too." He frowned, "The baddies always seem to have a bone to pick with the CSM, so they might have nabbed her just because of that."

"And Ella...?" Nudge inquired.

"We'll split up. You and Angel can go after Dr. M, and me and Gazzy can look for Ella."

"I don't think it's a good idea," Angel disagreed, "we might be able to find Total and Alika and Dr. Martinez, but we have no idea where Ella is. We need to focus on more important things, like finding Max and Fang. With something this big, they have to be caught up in it somehow." There was a resolute edge to her voice.

"Angel," Iggy said, sighing, "Max and Fang have been missing for months, and we've been searching for them most of that time—and we still haven't found them. Ella might be nearby, and the longer we wait the harder it'll be to find her."

"Who says we _have_ to find her?"

Iggy gaped at Angel. "You can't be serious." How could she even _consider_ leaving Ella behind like that? Not only was she Max's sister, she was... she was Ella. "Angel, we have to go after her—Ella is family."

"Iggy's right, Angel," Nudge agreed, "We have to try and help her."

He could practically hear Angel scowling. What was her problem, anyways? "You can't go," she declared adamantly, "It's not safe."

"Last I checked," Iggy replied, "I don't take orders from you. And since when has 'not safe' stopped us from doing anything? Look, I may be blind, but I'm still the oldest here and—"

"Shhh!" Angel suddenly interrupted, signalling for him to be quiet. "Someone's coming." Another pause, and then, "A bunch of those soldiers are in the area going house to house. Something about a blind, winged mutant causing a disturbance at the grocery store." She used an accusatory inflection.

_Great, _Iggy thought sarcastically. "Okay, we've got to get out of here fast. Gasman, you and me will grab the backpacks—Angel, you and Nudge grab the cell phones and whatever else we need." He doubted they'd get any reception on the cells, but it was better than nothing.

Barely a minute later the four of them were gathered behind the house, ready to take off. "Okay," Iggy said, "We each have our own emergency packs and packs for Dr. Martinez and Ella. You girls call if you find anything, and me and Gazzy will do vice versa. If you can't get a hold of us, try to stay near the airport so we can find you later on." Then they spread their wings parted ways, Iggy having no idea where he and Gazzy would go now.

"Are you okay?" Meagan asked me, and I grimaced.

"Not really," I told her, "but I don't think I'm going to throw up again, if that's what you're asking." Slowly I walked away from the toilet and sat down on my bunk, trying to process everything that was happening.

Meagan sat down next to me. "I know this is a bad time," she said, "but the scientist guys who were here left this for you." She handed me a clipboard and a pen, then explained, "It's a medical questionnaire they had everyone fill out."

I looked at the form on the clipboard for a moment. "This sheet asks for our names," I noticed, "Don't they already have our medical records and stuff?"

"No," Meagan shook her head, "They were randomly taking DNA samples from kids in public places in a bunch of different states. We had genes they thought were most likely to be compatible with the mutant genes, so they tagged us and then tracked us down when they were ready to do the experiments. They don't have any medical files or anything. See, that's where the tracker used to be." She gestured to a tiny cut on my left shoulder.

So they hadn't grabbed me because I was Max's sister or a CSM founder's daughter. That encouraged me, for some reason. These people weren't omnipotent, they didn't know everything about me; they just grabbed me because I had DNA that was compatible with human-avian genes.

So I filled in the form, signing my name as Ella Alverez. I thought about signing something clever, like 'Ride' or 'Griffiths' (that's Iggy's last name... I wish.), but it seemed too obvious somehow, so I just filled in the first name that popped into my head then walked over to the barrack door—or gate, more accurately, since it was a part of the fence—to give the guard my form.

"Don't touch the metal," the guard warned me, "it's highly electrified, and direct contact may result in serious injury." Then, with his heavily gloved hands, he unlocked the gate, took the clipboard and pen from me, then he left with my questionnaire.

I had the sinking feeling I had just submitted my own death warrant.

The next morning, I was really regretting signing my last name as starting with an 'A', because I was in the first group of girls to be taken to get their shots and doctor's examinations. Oh joy.

"Ella Alverez, Anna Bartoli, and Kendra Brancet, come to the front of the barrack now," the guard barked, waiting to escort us to our doom doctor's exams. Me and the two other girls called shuffled nervously through the gate when he opened it for us, being extremely careful not to touch the sides so we wouldn't get fried.

The hallways were dimly lit and narrow, and had a "DIY renovation meets abandoned warehouse" feel to it. It was as if someone had taken a old, empty shell of a building and then built a bunch of rooms and hallways into the open space—the roof was supported with heavy-duty beams and stood maybe five feet over my head, and most of the walls (the ones not made of concrete or sheet metal) looked new and thin, each sporting a fresh coat of white paint. Clearly they weren't part of the original building layout. It wasn't the most high-end, clean-cut facility I'd ever seen, but something tells me they didn't build this place with aesthetics in mind.

We took a couple turns to get to a main corridor, which was much wider than the other halls and had four smaller hallways branching out from it on each side. There seemed to be about six rooms per hallway—a total of forty-eight rooms accessible from the corridor. I wondered what they were used for.

I found out the use of one room rather quickly: the room that I was ushered into, where a doctor stood waiting for me, looked to be a medical examination room. "Ella Alverez?" I nodded. "You may go now," he said to the guard, who nodded and then left to deliver the other two girls to their appointments.

After being stripped down and given a full physical examination, as well as providing several DNA samples (experiences I did not enjoy at all), I was given a clean tank top and a pair of loose-fitting sweatpants to change into. Once I was fully clothed again, my examining doctor, Dr. Brailes his nametag read, swabbed my arm with an alcohol wipe and inserted a needle into the disinfected skin. I winced at the sting of the needle, and shuddered when Dr. Brailes withdrew it. "You're done for today," he declared plainly, escorting me back to the main corridor. There was a guard standing at the head of it, waiting to escort someone back to their barrack. I was passed off to him, and he led me back to my confines. _That's it?_ I thought to myself. Somehow I had been expecting something scarier, more dramatic, but really, today had just been like an uncomfortable, unfriendly doctor's check-up.

At least, that's what I thought, until I started feeling sick.

The muscle pain and nausea had set in less than an hour after my shot, and as girls were swapped in and out of the barracks, everyone slowly succumbed to the same symptoms. All of us lay on our bunks uncomfortably, tossing and turning for several hours trying to get comfortable.

My symptoms eased up after a while, but most of the other girls were still curled up in pain beneath their blankets. I noticed that Meagan, the girl I had been talking to earlier, looked especially ill—and she had fallen sick more quickly than the other girls who had received shots the same time she had.

"Hey," a voice above me said, several hours after we'd all gotten our shots, "you on the bunk under mine, you feel well enough to chat?"

"Sure," I replied, climbing off my bunk and up onto the top bunk. The girl was sitting cross-legged on it, her dark hair draped over her slender shoulders. I recognized her as one of the girls who I'd been escorted with to the examination rooms.

"I'm Anna," she introduced, motioning for me to sit next to her.

"Ella," I told her, "Nice to meet you."

Anna nodded. "Even if it is _here_," she added with a dim smile.

Despite our grim circumstances, Anna and I hit it off pretty quick; we talked about school, friends, sports, movies, pretty much anything to pass the time. And, eventually, we talked about what was going on in the outside world.

"Things got really messed up really fast," Anna said, shaking her head, "Did you see some of the stuff that was playing on the TV before you got taken?"

"Yeah," I answered, "It's so creepy. Talk about a hostile takeover."

"It almost makes me glad we're holed up here instead of out there experiencing the apocalypse." Anna smiled at me. "Almost."

Then Anna changed topics. "So, who did you leave on the outside?" she asked quietly, "I have my dad and two brothers. One brother was taken too. I guess they have the boys holed up somewhere else."

My heart ached at the thought of my own (partially mutant) family. "I don't really know," I admitted to Anna, "My mom might have been on a plane when all those flights disappeared, and I think my aunt was on vacation in Europe or something. And my sister and brother-in-law... nobody's heard from them in a while."

A sympathetic expression crossed Anna's face. "So you don't have anyone?"

I shrugged. "I might, I guess. I mean, my sister's friends are sort of like family, but they have to move around a lot sometimes. And, knowing them, they're probably more focussed on avoiding capture than worrying about me." I desperately hoped the Flock hadn't been captured too. If they had, then I was sunk.

"Captured?" Anna echoed. My eyes widened slightly, and I mentally slapped myself for letting a detail like that slip. However, Anna didn't seem to think too strangely of it, and asked, "Were they disabled?"

I breathed a sigh of relief; I forgot that they were arresting people with disabilities. "Um, yeah," I replied, "one of them is blind."

"Clone soldiers capturing invalids, kids getting kidnapped out of their houses..." Anna shook her head, "It doesn't seem real, you know? It sounds like something out of a weird sci-fi movie."

I smiled sadly. "My life hasn't seemed real in a long time." I tried to give an amused snort, but it came out as more of a choked back sob. I could feel a tear threatening to leak from the corner of my eye, and I wiped it away quickly. _You will not cry, you will not cry, you will not cry—_and then I started crying. Great.

To my slight relief, however, Anna started crying too. "Those jerks," she mumbled with the slightest curl of her mouth, "taking us away from our families and using us like lab rats." At least I wasn't the only one torn up about it.

"W-we shouldn't cry," I stuttered, sniffling loudly, "it annoys the guards."

"Well they should've thought of that before they took a bunch of teenage girls hostage," Anna sniffed, laughing behind her tears. "I swear, we're like a bunch of leaky water faucets!" But even though it felt good to let some of the pain out, I couldn't help feel like I was letting Max and the others down somehow, sitting there blubbering like an idiot.


	6. Clean Up Duty

Hey, everyone! Here's today's update-it was supposed to be yesterday's update, but, you know, life. (I also fixed the missing page breaks in the last chapter. Gaaah.) Anyways, enjoy!

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><p><strong>5 – Clean-Up Duty<strong>

The next three days were mostly the same: the guard would wake us up, toss in our allotted number of food packets, and then an hour later escort us to our doctors for our daily shot. Every day Dr. Brailes would check me over and ask what symptoms I was experiencing, then he'd give me my shot and send me back to the barrack. Since most everyone else was too sick to do anything but lay there, I'd spend most of the day talking with Anna, and whoever else happened to be feeling a bit better.

By day four, everyone seemed to be feeling better except Meagan, who stayed curled up on her bunk while the rest of us ate on the floor together and chatted. As far as I could tell, we all had similar backgrounds: we were all from decent homes in decent neighborhoods, and we had all been grabbed in or near our houses. None of them had any weird powers or abnormalities that would make them prime kidnapping targets. They were just nice kids that had been in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong DNA.

That morning, however, when I was taken to Dr. Brailes for my check-up, I was puzzled when he gave me two shots instead of one. Usually I never said anything more than I had to, but today I ventured to ask, "Excuse me? Why am I getting an extra shot today?"

"I have orders to administer an accelerant," he grumbled, talking more to himself than me, "I mean, you tell those Neanderthals, 'No, give them one to three years to develop properly' but they want results within the next six months. Six months! But what do they know about genetic modification? Those stuffy old..." then he remembered that I was there and clammed up, shooting me an annoyed 'I'm not supposed to be talking to the experiments' look.

My stomach churned slightly at the new information. An accelerant; as in, some sort of crazy chemical to make us mutate even faster? This did not sound good. And it sounded even worse when I got back to my barrack and started vomiting and dry heaving, with severe muscle cramps forming all over my body. It was like I had gotten the flu, except ten times worse. And, since all the other girls in my barrack had gotten the same shot, all twenty of us were moaning and puking. Not a pretty sight when there's only one toilet, and some of the girls were in too much pain to even crawl off their bunks.

For the first three days I received the accelerant, I spent most of my day retching or sleeping, getting up only if I needed to use the bathroom, get food and water, or go to get my shot. A doctor walked through our barrack a couple times a day, checking us over and making sure we were fed and hydrated—a few girls were totally bedridden had to be put on IVs. By day five, however, me, Anna, and some of the other girls were feeling well enough to at least talk again.

Meagan moaned, shifting uncomfortably under her blanket. "I feel like death." And this was one of her good days.

"Agreed," grumbled a girl named Cammie, who was on the bunk across from mine.

"It's the accelerant," I speculated, as I paced back and forth between the two rows of bunks. I still wasn't feeling one hundred percent, but my body was starting to adjust to the illness, and lying around for days at a time was making me restless. "They're trying to speed up the mutation process."

"Speed it up how much?" Anna asked.

"The scientist said they wanted results within the next sixth months," I recalled, "but I have no idea how long it will be before we, we..." I trailed off.

"Grow wings and fly?" Anna smirked slightly.

"Or die a slow and painful death," Meagan countered pessimistically. "I used to read Fang's blog, you know, and sometimes he'd write about the School and about the different genetic experiments, all grotesque and mutated and stuff." And he didn't even describe the half of it there.

"Guys, we're not going to turn into School experiments," I told her, "We can pull through this if we hang on."

Meagan scoffed, "Since when did you become an optimist, Ella?"

"Since you all started acting like we're doomed," I told them, resolve building up inside of me. "The only way we're going to survive this is if we believe we can survive it. Maybe the virus and accelerant won't work and we'll all stay normal. Maybe someone will come and rescue us before anything weird happens. But even if nothing can stop this, I'm not going to give up that easily."

There was a collective sigh from the other girls. "She's right, you know," Anna said, sitting up on her bunk. "I mean, think of World War II, when all those people were put to work in concentration camps and starved until they were living skeletons. Do you think any of _them_ survived by feeling sorry for themselves all day? And we have it easy compared to them!" I shot her a grateful look, thankful for the moral support.

"Alright, alright, I get the point," Meagan grumbled, "but any of us could die at any minute. You do realize that, don't you?"

"Yes, but we still have to try, don't we?" I pointed out, "We can't just give up! As long as we're alive, there's still a chance we could see our families again, a chance that we'll get out of this place. If we just give up and wait to die, those things will never happen. So I'm going to hang in there for as long as possible. What about you guys?" I looked around me, and many of the other girls voiced their approval. Good, that meant I didn't sound like a total dork.

I stopped in front of Meagan's bunk and said to her, "Well, Meagan? Promise not to curl up and die on me?" I had a slight smile on my face.

Even though she still looked miserable, I could tell that Meagan's spirits had brightened, if only a little bit. "I'll try my best," she said quietly, the faintest smile curling at the corners of her mouth.

Suddenly the guard walked up to our barrack and barked, "Alverez! Bartoli!" My eyes widened a fraction and I turned around, wondering why Anna and I were being called upon.

"Yeah?" Anna replied weakly.

"Come with me," he ordered, waiting for us to approach the gate. I shot a nervous look at the Anna, but we complied with the guard's orders and shuffled into the main corridor when the gate was opened. He led us into one of the hallways, just like we were all the other times, but instead of taking us to one of the examination rooms we met up with Dr. Brailes in the hall. "You stay here and listen to him," the guard ordered me, before leading Anna away to another one of the hallways. Our eyes met before she turned the corner, and I tried my best to give her an encouraging smile. Then I turned to Dr. Brailes.

"We are presently lacking janitorial staff," he explained, "so you will be cleaning this hallway and its adjoining rooms. Understand?" I nodded, not sure if I wanted to know why they were suddenly short on staff.

"But wait," I said, "Won't I, like, contaminate your equipment or something?"

Dr. Brailes cleared his throat uncomfortably. "The virus is highly unstable in most environments, and must be injected directly into an organism's bloodstream for it to have any effect. So no, you won't contaminate anything." Then he led me from room to room, showing me what needed to cleaned and supervising me as I got the job done. They all seemed to be regular examination rooms, like the one I was brought to every morning to get my shots.

There was one room, however—room 142, it was marked—that contrasted starkly with the others. "What happened here?" I asked, startled by what I saw. This room, unlike the others, was empty except for the counter and overhead cupboards, and a large cage that was welded to the top of a steel table. My heart dropped to my stomach when I saw that the cage bottom, and some of the floor surrounding the table, was slick with blood.

"All you need to know is that you need to mop this up and put the paper towels in this bag," he said, handing me an orange garbage bag, a pair of rubber gloves, and a roll of paper towel. I took them from him and walked over to the cage, but I slipped on the bloody concrete and fell flat on my stomach. _Owww... _

_...Ewww!_ I scrambled to my feet when I realized I'd fallen right into the red puddle on the floor. I glanced over at Dr. Brailes, who stared at me blankly. "There aren't any dangerous contaminates you need to worry about." Gee, thanks for the concern.

So I wiped myself off the best I could and sopped up the mess on the floor and in the cage, and then I used some spray-on anti-bacterial cleaner to get rid of the residue. (I wanted to spray some onto my shirt to get the bloodspots out, but Dr. Brailes said that would waste too much time.) Once I was done, Dr. Brailes escorted me out of room 142, warning me, "Do not enter that room unless explicitly ordered to by a staff member, or you will be severely punished." Then he turned me over to the guard, who was also escorting another girl, and I was led back to the barracks. He deposited me in my barrack, then took the other girl further down the hall to where she belonged.

"What happened!" Was the collective exclamation of my bunkmates when they saw me. Some of them worriedly scrambled out of bed and stepped towards me, staring at my shirt in alarm. I looked down and realized they were staring at the bloodstains.

"Guys, I'm fine," I assured them, "they just needed someone to do some cleaning for them, same as Anna." I looked over and saw that Anna had already been returned, and was staring at me with an uneasy expression.

"It must be one heck of a cleaning job," she remarked, eyeing my clothes warily, "They didn't have me cleaning anything like _that_."

"Why did you have to clean up blood?" One girl asked meekly, "Was it... what do you think it's from?"

"I... don't know," I answered, "but it was mostly inside of a cage that was in one of the medical rooms. A really big cage." But exactly who—or what—had been in that cage? And why had there been blood all over the place?


	7. Blind Recollection

Hey! I meant to update sooner, but I've had a busy weekend. Sleepover + finally watching the epic finale of Doctor Who series six (AHHHH!) = tired, late updater.

Oh, and while I'm thinking of it, I should probably mention that the ideas for my CC stories were conceived pre-_Fang_, so if you notice any incongruities between the canon and my story, then just know it's supposed to be like that.

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><p><strong>6 – Blind Recollection<strong>

After practically scouring the entire state of Arizona looking for Ella, Iggy and Gazzy had fallen into a rut in their search-and-rescue plan. They had absolutely no idea where the Collectors—that's what people had started calling those big, dark super-soldiers—could have taken Ella. Heck, she could be on the moon for all they knew. The Collectors had a few little offices/bases scattered throughout the area, where they could fuel their trucks and received orders from their superiors, but none of them were built to hold prisoners long-term. Also, there weren't any computers in the Collector dens, so they didn't even have a network they could hack into.

They eventually gave up on that route of investigation and started following the Collector's trucks around, hoping that they would lead them somewhere useful. Some of the trucks stayed within a fifty mile perimeter, patrolling the area to keep the peace, but many of them, Iggy and Gazzy noticed, drove much farther than that, driving hundreds of miles away from their points of origin—all of them heading west or north-west. It was one of those west-bound trucks that they were following presently, hoping that it would lead them closer to Ella.

As they flew over the vast countryside, it became greatly apparent how much the world around them was changing. Gazzy described to Iggy everything he saw, from the air and from the towns he visited for supplies. Not only were the Collectors "collecting" people, but they were also taking things like weapons and computers, storing them in guarded junkyards until they could be destroyed or taken away. As well, civilians were now forbidden from driving cars, and Collectors were drafting people into large task forces that went from street to street, stripping any vehicle they came across of its tires and engine parts. The only vehicles allowed on the road now were the Collectors' transporter trucks.

"They've put up big chain link fences, like, everywhere," Gazzy observed, "it's like we're flying over a giant grid. They've even torn down buildings to put them up, like they didn't even care if someone's house or a school was in the way. And the sky is all blue and crackly; I heard people say it's 'cause there's a force field covering the entire continent." Each of those little grid squares was called a 'sector', and you weren't allowed to leave your sector unless you had permission from the Collectors—or you were a prisoner in the back of their truck. It seemed the Supremacy's strategy was to divide and conquer. After all, Iggy mused, if people can't move around or communicate, how are they supposed to organize and stand up to these psychos? And if there really was a force field stopping anyone from leaving the continent or coming to it, then there was little chance of the outside world intervening.

According to Gazzy, who ventured into nearby towns when they needed supplies and information, everyone's lives had been turned upside down. Most stores and businesses had been forcibly closed down, so the only employment available was with the Collectors' task forces, collecting illegal items or building new factories and facilities that were part of the Supremacy's "new civilization" plan.

"These Supremacy people have totally taken over with their clone army," Gazzy told Iggy, "it's like you can't even sneeze without getting arrested."

"Let alone go around being blind," he had muttered in response. The transporter they were tailing had seemingly stopped for the evening at a small outpost, so Iggy was setting up camp in the nearby woods while the Gasman flew to the nearest town to steal some food. He hated having to out in the woods while Gazzy ventured out on his own, but it was too dangerous for him to venture out into society now. There was a reward being offered to anyone who reported a "citizen with unique needs" to the Collectors, and considering how fast the average quality of life had dropped over the last few weeks, Iggy knew the towns' inhabitants would have little hesitation in turning him in.

With nothing to do and nobody to talk to, Iggy passed the time by aimlessly sifting through the contents of their backpacks. His and Gazzy's had almost the exact same stuff in them: clothes, blankets, first aid supplies, and a few explosives supplies. You know, just in case. Ella's had the same emergency supplies (minus the bombs), as well as some hygienic products that were more feminine in nature, but she'd also packed a few personal items—heirlooms and mementos and such. The kind of stuff you'd take with you if you were leaving home and not coming back.

The corner of Iggy's mouth quirked slightly as he ran his fingers over each item as he pulled them out of Ella's pack: family photos, a few shells and rocks, an old stuffed animal... Just then his fingers brushed against a velvety box sitting at the very bottom of the backpack. I wonder what this is. He pulled it out and opened it up, grasping gently at its contents. There were three rings inside of it, and after a moment of feeling them over Iggy recognized what they were.

The first one was Ella's grandma's antique engagement ring—Ella had shown it to him a couple times, gushing about how much she adored it. The other two, even though he had handled them far less, Iggy would recognize anywhere: they were Max's rings. The first one was the ring Fang had given her on their fifteenth birthday, the one with a birthstone in it. The second ring had also been given to her by Fang, but it wasn't a birthday present; it was her engagement ring. Iggy knew Max loved these rings—she loved just about anything Fang gave her—but she was always hesitant to wear them, scared they would get lost or damaged in an unexpected fight. Ella must have hung on to them for safekeeping when the Flock went to Seattle.

Iggy smiled as he put Ella's things back into the backpack. Max might've scolded Ella for taking up so much room with knickknacks and trinkets, but he didn't say anything when he had helped Ella pack her emergency bag and she passed up on adding extra supplies to leave room for a few keepsakes. It was something he'd always liked about Ella: she didn't always nitpick about what was impractical or unnecessary. The stuff she'd packed wasn't just about surviving, it was also about living. There was a difference between the two, as Iggy had learned over the years. That was one of the biggest differences between Ella and Max: Max always had survival at the front of her mind, observing and calculating and guarding her thoughts and emotions. Ella, on the other hand, just... lived. She wasn't afraid to relax or share her feelings or to just have fun. Iggy liked that about her; maybe he even envied her a little.

After all, most of his childhood had been spent just trying to stay alive, something that, compared to the rest of the Flock, Iggy wasn't the greatest at. There had always been pressure on him, on all of them, to be tough and efficient and to not let their weaknesses show, which is a lot harder to do when you have a major handicap. But being around the Martinezes, as well as having a peaceful spell this last couple of years, had made him realize how much he could do. He was good at just living; he could cook and play cards and crack jokes and goof off, just like any normal (albeit blind) teenager. It made him realize he wasn't as inferior as he'd always thought, comparing himself against a human scale of success instead of a mutant superhero one. Max and Fang's absence had only served to further his sense of self-sufficiency, since it meant they weren't around to assist him out or tell him what to do, and everyone else was too sullen and distracted to help the blind guy.

Iggy felt a pang in his heart. Max and Fang. They'd been gone for months now, and Iggy was beginning to wonder if they'd ever turn up. It was hard, not knowing what had happened to them. Fang was his brother and fellow dude, and Max… she was the mother he'd never had. She'd been the one who kept them alive when Jeb abandoned them, the one who always took the least food so the others would have more. She was the one who made them feel loved and kept them from going insane. He'd never loved Max the way Fang loved her, (if he had, Fang would've ripped out Iggy's kidneys and force-fed them back to him in a jealous rage) but ever since he was little Max had been a light in his ever darkened world. A world without Max seemed… impossible. At least, it had six months ago.

And yet here he was, standing on his own two feet. No Max to dictate his life to him, no Fang serving as co-enforcer, just plain old Iggy thinking and acting all by himself. It scared Iggy to even fathom it, but maybe… maybe he would be okay without them. Maybe he didn't need someone to parent him anymore. He was independent now, with a life outside of Max and the Flock.

Just then Iggy heard something swoop down over the tree tops, rustling branches. Wings folded, and a pair of footsteps landed heavily on the ground in front of him. "Hey Gazzy," he greeted, "Brought food?"

"Yeah," he replied, tossing Iggy a couple of plastic packets, "stole them from a Collector truck delivering supplies. These ones are made for the Collectors and not humans, so they got enough calories for us."

"Cool." Iggy tore open one of his packets and took a bite out of the chewy slab. It was bland and meaty—kind of like the Collectors who ate these things.

"I think they're getting suspicious," Gazzy said in between chews, "I mean, I've been trying to spread out so that I'm not taking supplies from just the towns the transporter stops at, but I hear them putting out warnings to look out for anyone unusual. I kept out of sight today, but just barely." A flicker of a grin filled his voice, "Boy, what I'd give to have Fang's stealth power right now..." then he grew quiet, realizing he'd just spoken on a taboo subject.

Iggy smiled slightly. "It's okay, Gazzy," he assured, "we should talk about them. I was thinking about them before you came back, actually."

Gazzy heaved a heavy sigh, sounding more stressed than a kid his age should be. "Sometimes I forget they're even gone. Like, I'll be doing something I shouldn't, and then I'll wonder why Max isn't getting after me, but then I remember…" he was quiet for a moment. Then, finally, he asked, "Iggy?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think Max and Fang are alive?"

There was a painful seizing in Iggy's gut. "I really don't know anymore, Gaz," he admitted, "They've never been missing this long before, and then everything's gotten so messed up so fast with this Supremacy takeover stuff." Max never would've let something like this happen if she was okay.

"I know," Gazzy murmured disheartenedly, "I just… I wish we knew something. I hate not knowing what happened to them."

Shuffling over so that he was sitting next to him, Iggy put his arm around Gazzy and said, "Who knows, maybe Max and Fang will make a big comeback and save the world again."

"And if they don't?"

"Then we'll have to save the world for them." Iggy gave Gazzy a lopsided grin, and he swore he could hear him smiling back. "Things'll get better, Gazzy," he told his young friend, "They always do."

"Thanks Iggy," Gazzy said, sounding encouraged. Things stayed comfortably silent after that.


	8. Ella the Brave

Gah! I am so late on updating this time around! It's been majorly busy lately-and not just the lazy procrastinator type busy, the I'm-leaving-the-country-twice-in-the-next-three-weeks kind of busy. (Yeah, you guys might be waiting a while for an update after next week...) Anyways, here's the next chapter!

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><p><strong>7 – Ella the Brave<strong>

As it turns out, cleaning up after the scientists became an everyday activity. It was weird; after the first two days, once Dr. Brailes figured I knew what I was doing, I wasn't even supervised or anything. They just took me (and the other girls they'd picked to clean up) to my designated hallway, and then a couple of guards would pace up and down the main hallway until we were all done. It seemed like security was a bit lax, if you asked me. But then, it's not like they were supervising dangerous criminals or anything, just half a dozen teenage guinea pigs from the suburbs. If they actually thought that I could escape or do any real damage, they wouldn't be letting me do this.

Either way, I liked the time away from the barracks. Other than to receive their daily shots and check-ups, none of the other girls ever got to leave our holding area. It was nice not to feel cooped up, to have some time to yourself to sort out your own thoughts. That's why I tried really hard to look healthy whenever the guard came and took me to clean—some of the other cleaning girls had been swapped out when they were too sickly to help (Anna lost her spot to a girl in the barrack right of ours), and I didn't want anyone else getting dibs on my job.

I noticed some interesting things those first few days of cleaning duty. One, there are boys being kept somewhere else in the facility. It was on the third day of cleaning that there was a big commotion down the hallway, coming from hall opposite the one we take to get to and from our barracks. One of the guards watching over us had left to investigate the problem, and a few minutes later a couple of black-eyed, bloody-nosed boys, about my age or older, were marched down the hallway with their arms pinned behind their backs, down another doorway towards what seemed to be the place where all the doctors hung out or worked when they weren't testing us. The guard that was helping watch over us before returned to his post and resumed pacing back and forth down the main hall, only this time I noticed there was a long, ugly, red scratch that stretched across his right cheek. Those boys must've tried fighting the guards and lost—but not without making their mark, apparently.

The second thing I realized is that the facility was understaffed—I saw maybe a dozen or so different doctors pass by as they went about their business, and if they were split up between four hundred different kids (there are ten girls' barracks with about twenty girls each, and I'm guessing there's the same number of guys) then they're assigned to a good thirty kids each. On top of that, there never seems to be more than five guards at a time on duty. Were there more employees somewhere else in the building, or was this place functioning on a skeleton crew?

Fact number three I found out, which was the fact that intrigued me the most, was that whatever had been in that cage I cleaned was now back in room 142, the door securely locked. It was a pretty thick door, so I couldn't pick up much, but sometimes when I stopped and placed my ear against it I thought I could hear something (or was it someone?) moving around in there. My curiosity was piqued, and I was dying to know what was being kept in there. I had to be careful not to spend too much time in front of the door, though, or else the guard would notice I was up to something.

Other than that, those first few days of cleaning duty passed by without incident. Everyone in my barrack was starting to feel better, and so we passed time by playing board games the guards gave us or by gathering in the isle between the rows of bunks and just talking with each other. It almost like a never-ending sleep-over, in a weird, captive prisoner sort of way. Like on day four of cleaning duty, when I came back to find everyone sitting together and gossiping about boys.

"...and he wouldn't let me get farther than three feet away from him!" Anna laughed as she told the story, "And I mean, it was summer camp, so it's not like it was easy to avoid him. I had to start eating my meals behind the mess hall so he wouldn't find me!" Then everyone noticed me and turned to invite me to join.

"There you are," Megan replied with a grin. "Care to share a story?"

"Not much to share, I'm afraid," I shrugged, taking a seat between her and Rachel. I'd gone with dates to the movies and to dances and stuff, but I'd never had a serious boyfriend.

"Aw, come on," Anna prodded, the other girls egging along with her, "You must at least have a crush on someone."

I squirmed uncomfortably. The part of me that was trying to keep my connection to the Flock a secret was telling me not to let anything out, to keep Iggy and the others to myself like I'd done so far. The girl part of me, however... "Well, there's this one guy I really like," I admitted.

"Oooh, description?" Megan asked, wiggling her eyebrows at me.

I grinned, calling up an image of Iggy to the front of my mind. "He's a blonde, with blue eyes and a killer smile. He's super tall and thin, but he's also really strong, and probably the smartest person I know—he can even make his own explosives from scratch." I froze up for a moment. _He makes his own explosives? Stupid, stupid, stupid! You've said too much!_

To my relief, however, Anna started laughing, and the others quickly joined in. "Your boyfriend blows things up?"

"Ha!" was my light-hearted reply, "I wish he was my boyfriend."

"Then why don't you ask him out?" a girl named Heidi asked.

I sighed, my mood dampening slightly. "It's more complicated than that."

"But Ella," Cara, another girl, pointed out, "aren't these things usually complicated?"

"Yeah, but this is _super_-complicated, like you couldn't imagine."

The other girls frowned sympathetically, and Cara said, "So he doesn't like you back at all?"

I shook my head. "I don't think so. I mean, we're pretty good friends and everything, but he's just way out of my league, you know? He's so smart and handsome and talented and..." _and he has wings and helped save the world_, I finished silently. "I just don't think he likes me that way. I'm more of a kid sister to him, I guess."

The girls erupted into a chorus of 'awww's and 'no way!'s as they attempted to make me feel better. "Ella, this boy must be blind if he can't see what an amazing catch you are," Anna told me. (I managed to stifle a giggle.)

"Definitely," Megan agreed, "And who knows? Maybe deep down he really does like you back."

"Maybe," I replied uncertainly.

"And even if he doesn't like you," Anna continued, "it's his loss. You're awesome, Ella—you're the one who's been working so hard to keep everyone sane this entire time. I mean, if not for your nagging and pep talking, we'd all be curled up on our bunks feeling sorry for ourselves."

"You're just so... so strong," Cammie, a quieter gal, added timidly, "I wish I could be as brave as you are."

I smiled sadly. "Trust me, I'm not brave." _Not compared to Max, anyways._

But all the other girls disagreed, and wouldn't let up on the doting until they were sure their message has gotten across. "Sorry, Ella," Megan replied, beaming, "you've just been voted the year's bravest prisoner—whether you like it or not."

"Thanks guys," I told them all, feeling more than a little relieved when the conversation finally moved on to something else. Still, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of confidence growing inside. Maybe I wasn't totally useless after all.

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><p>The next day I got my shots and check-up and then got down to cleaning just like I always had before. This time, however, the door to room 142 seemed to be glaring at me like never before, taunting me, daring me to try and open it. <em>Forget about it, <em>a tiny voice in the back of my head told me, _you're never going to get it open. _As I swept the hallway floor, however, the girls' exhortation from the day before stuck in my head, and I couldn't help but wonder if maybe there was a way to get that door unlocked.

After a few minutes of internal wrestling, I finally put down my broom and dustpan and went to give the door a closer look. I glanced at the end of the hall to make sure the guards weren't watching, and then gingerly I grasped the doorknob and tried to give it a turn. Locked, just as I thought. I exhaled, and brushed at the leaves of the potted plant that were tickling my arm.

_Wait, potted plant?_ I looked over at the sickly little shrub sitting to the left of the doorway, and an odd thought occurred to me. _They couldn't be stupid enough to... could they?_ I grasped the plastic planter and lifted the tree. _Oh my word, they _are_ stupid enough to hide a key under a flowerpot!_ Suddenly I felt exposed, like the guards were going to come charging down here and drag me away for being nosy. I quickly replaced the flowerpot and went back to my sweeping, shifting my anxious gaze between the end of the hall and the base of the potted plant.

_No way,_ I told myself, _It's not worth getting in trouble over. _But that didn't stop me from subconsciously timing how many seconds I had between guards as they paced up and down the hallway. (Five seconds minimum. Also, the second guard who passed always took a longer glance at me than first one did.)

So when the second guard had gone by, against my better judgment, I abandoned my broom again, tilted the planter back, and slid the key out from under it. I was quietly panicking as my mental timer counted down from five, and I shoved the key into the lock and turned it before I could talk myself out of it. The knob turned easily this time, and opened the door and slipped in before anyone could see what I was doing. I eased the door shut behind me, being careful not to let it slam. Hopefully, if the guard noticed I wasn't in the hall anymore, he'd assume I'd gone into one of the other rooms to grab something or to do some more cleaning.

Finally I turned my attention to the huddled figure who was crammed into the corner of the cage I had cleaned out—it was a girl, probably around my age, and the roof wasn't nearly high enough for her to sit comfortably, so she sat with her head tucked up against her knees and her arms encircling her legs. She didn't look tense or scared, though; she must've been resting, or maybe just thinking. I couldn't see her face, but she wore clothes like mine and had short, brownish hair that reached a bit below her chin.

When I realized she wasn't going to respond to my arrival, I spoke, "Um, hello?"

"What do you want," a muffled voice replied curtly, still not moving a muscle.

"Um," I began, "Well, I'm being held captive here too, and I wanted to see who—" then she shifted her position and turned to face me, and I gasped, suddenly lost for words.

"Really, now?" She replied with a sarcastic smile, "You sure don't look like you're in a cage."

I blinked hard a couple of times, as if I was afraid I was seeing things. "Max? You're here too?"


	9. Vera

**8 - Vera**

She stared at me, a flicker of confusion in her eyes, then a flicker of recognition—a flicker that was quickly replaced with bitter glare and an almost patronizing smile. She scooted to the front of her cage, and I got a better look at her, her familiar brown eyes hidden behind shaggy bangs and her jaw marred by a long scar that ran along the right side of her face. Then she told me, "Sorry, kid, I'm not Maximum Ride."

As soon as she said it I believed her. There was no denying the similarities between this girl and my sister—the word 'identical' comes to mind—but there was something very un-Maxish about her. Something colder. "But," I asked her, as I took a few steps towards the cage, "if you're not Max, then who are you?"

She smirked at me. "I go by a lot of names: mutant freak, the subject, your worst nightmare..."

Just then I remembered something that Iggy had told me. "Wait, I know who you are! You're Max II, they swapped you with—whoa!" That's when she grabbed me by my shirt through the bars of the cage, slamming me into the metal grid.

"That," she snarled, "is one name I never go by. Ever. Get it?"

I nodded emphatically, and then she let go of me. I backed up a couple of steps so she couldn't grab at me again, and then tried again. "So," I ventured carefully, "If you don't go by _that_, then what's your name?"

"I've never had much need for a name," the girl eyed me down carefully, "but you can call me Vera."

"Vera," I repeated, nodding. "Cool. I'm Ella."

Vera cracked a devious grin, amused by my attempts at diplomacy. "Well then, _Ella_, mind telling me how you know who I am? And how did you get in here?"

"They let me out of the holding area to clean up this hallway." Then I stood up straighter and tightened my jaw, trying to look tough and closed-off like Vera did. "And you could say that I know a few people. They tell me things."

"What kinds of things?"

"Things like the fact the last time Max saw you, you were scheduled for extermination Germany." Ella keeps a blank face. "So why aren't you?"

"Escaped during Max's little upheaval," Vera shrugged, "I faked my death for good measure, too, to keep the labcoats from coming after me. It's not hard to do when you can shut down your vital organs whenever you want. Or did your sister forget to mention that little trick she pulled when she was trapped in the isolation tank?"

"But then how did you—" I stopped mid-sentence. "Wait, how did you know that Max is my sister?"

Vera smirked at me again. "After I got away from Itex I kept up with the Flock online. Call it a hobby. With a kind-of famous mom and a winged wonder for a sister, I'm surprised you're not used to people recognizing you."

My cheeks grew a bit warm. "Yeah, well, I mostly stay out of the spotlight." Even though I'd tagged along with Mom and the Flock to plenty of their CSM stuff, I was always one of the background faces. It's pretty easy to remain anonymous at events like that when everyone's busy staring at the kids with wings.

Vera nodded curtly. "So, the whack jobs dragged you into the fun because of your family connections, right?"

I shook my head, explaining, "They took samples from random kids all over the place and then grabbed ones with the DNA they wanted. I don't think anyone knows about me—except for you, I guess. So... how did you end up here?"

"Got careless a few months ago and was nabbed somewhere on the west coast," Vera sighed, "Apparently four years out in the real world 'ruined' my training, so now I'm only good for offering up genetic samplings. They use them to make that Frankenstein mutagen serum they're testing on you humans. So basically, they think I'm as bad as your pig-headed sister." She rolled her eyes and asked, "How is the great Maximum Ride these days? She'll be here to save your sorry butt any time now, I assume."

I gaped at her. "You mean you didn't hear?"

"Hear what?" Vera asked warily.

"Max and Fang... they've been missing for like six months now." I gave her a quick recount of the situation of what was going on outside the facility, putting a guarded but obviously concerned expression onto Vera's face.

"That's not good," she muttered, cursing under her breath. Vera had just made the world's largest understatement.

Just then I became aware of how long I had been standing there gabbing. "I should probably get back to cleaning. They'll probably get suspicious if I don't finish soon."

Vera scoffed. "Have fun with that, then."

I turned back to the door and turned the knob, but just then I remembered something. "By the way, was it your blood I had to clean out of the cage a few days ago?"

"Some of it," Vera confirmed, donning an almost sinister expression. She didn't offer any other explanation, so I mumbled a quick goodbye and left to return to my cleaning.

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><p>When I got back to the barracks I was feeling a little nauseous. I wasn't sure if it was Vera or the virus that was making me feel unwell.<p>

"Are you okay, Ella?" Anna asked, sitting beside me on my bunk, "You look distracted."

"Hmmm?" I turned and looked at her. "Oh, I'm fine. Just feeling a little weird today." I had already decided not to mention Vera to the others—it would bring up too many incriminating questions, and I was scared that word might get back to the guards somehow.

"I feel funny too," Megan said, sitting next to me on the bunk, "I still feel a lot better than I did at first, but I think it's getting worse again."

"Maybe it means our bodies are fighting the virus?" Anna suggested hopefully.

"Maybe," Megan winced, "or maybe these good days are just the physical calm before the storm."

Though I wasn't about to support Megan's pessimistic bout, but I had to admit, I was feeling apprehensive too. I'd had it pretty easy so far—my "really sick" wasn't nearly as bad as most of the others'—but I knew it could only be a matter of time before something finally happened.

Of course, I wasn't expecting that "something" to happen in the dead of night, while we were all trying to sleep.

It must have been past midnight when I heard Megan moaning slightly. I didn't think much of it at first; my insides had been doing cartwheels since I'd returned that afternoon, and I imagined that if her nausea and stomach pain had returned it must be ten times worse than mine. However, Megan's moans got louder and more persistent, and she tossed and turned in bed like she was having a nightmare. Finally I got up to go check on her.

"Meg, what's wrong?" I whispered, putting my hand on her shoulder. Her skin was burning hot.

"It... hurts," she whimpered between stiff, pained gasps, "it hurts... all over..." Then suddenly her moaning turned into shrieking and she pushed me away, dangling over the side of her bunk to vomit bile onto the floor. Once the contents of her stomach were gone, she resumed the pained screeching and erratic jerking. The others had woken up by then and were nearly crying with terror, and it was a moment before I got myself together enough to scream for the guard.

"It's Megan!" I shouted at him through the chain link wall, though I knew he didn't care about her name, "Get a doctor, something's wrong!" Then I ran back to Megan's bunk and attempted to calm her down. There was no consoling her, though, and by the time the guards arrived with two doctors and a gurney I was nearly as hysterical as she was. I don't think any of us slept that night, even after they'd taken Megan away and her echoing screams had faded down the hallway.

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><p>Aaand this is where that whole "incongruities between my story and the canon" thing comes into place. James Patterson totally stole my thunder. :( But yeah, basically Vera is an alternate Maya-a rougher, tougher Maya in a cage. (As a side note, I do like Maya as a character, but am I the only one who thinks she seems a little too nice compared to when we first met her? It seems like Max II should either be still caught up in her inferiority complex and her out-perform Max routine, or she should've done a one-eighty like Vera and start breaking the whitecoats' rules left and right. But who knows.)<p>

On another note, this will be my last update for at least the next ten days, as I will be out of the country for that time. :( So sad.


	10. Turning Point

I'm baaaaack! ...Well, back long enough to update, anyways. Guatemala was fantastic-if any of you ever get the opportunity to go on a humanitarian trip or a missions trip, go for it. Seriously, it's an incredible experience that you don't want to pass up. 

****Anyways, on with the story! (My next update will probably be late too, by the way. Family vacation.)

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><p><strong>9 – Turning Point<strong>

Six more girls had to be taken away in the next five days. We haven't seen any of them since.

To say we were all shell-shocked would be a gross understatement. Before Megan went spasmodic, we had been able to go on about our day relatively easily. Sure, we'd all have those moments where we'd remember, "I could die today, and there's nothing I can do about it," but we'd always had one another to comfort us and distract us from our dismal fates. They could hurt me, but they couldn't hurt _us_, the group. It was suffering together that had made the Flock so close-knit, so indestructible. But these girls were like a flock to me, and now the virus was picking them off one by one.

I knew the other girls were looking up to me, waiting for me to say something to make them feel better, but I stayed curled up alone in my bunk as much as I could to avoid their desperate eyes and terrified tears. They wanted me to take charge, to tell them everything was going to be alright. But who was I kidding? I couldn't help them. I couldn't take away anyone's fear, or stop anyone else from being taken away. I was totally and completely helpless.

For the first time in hours, someone spoke. "Do you think they're dead?" Anna asked quietly.

"I don't know," Kendra replied, "they might be."

"I-I wonder," Cammie stammered, fighting back tears, "I wonder how long it is until something happens to all of us. It's only a matter of time, right?"

"It is if they keep giving us those stupid injections," Anna grumbled. I peeled back my blanket and looked over at Anna, who had taken to sleeping on the bunk where Megan used to be. Her lips were pale and dry and her eyes were bloodshot; she looked nothing like the upbeat, diehard girl I had befriended just a couple of weeks ago. This place had sucked the hope out of her—it had sucked the hope out of all of us. And I hated that.

"We have to get out of here." The words that escaped my lips caught me by surprise. Did I really just say that? Had Everyone in the room had fallen silent, and they stared at me in disbelief.

"You mean," Anna paused, waiting for the guard to pass us by, "you think we should try to escape?"

My mind was still reeling at the suggestion, but slowly it was starting to make sense. "What have we got to lose?" I realized, "Like you guys said, it's only a matter of time until the injections do _something_ to us. If we break out now, before we... _change_ into anything, maybe we'll be okay." The idea sounded better and better even as I was speaking the words.

The bunks filled with anxious murmurs. "But how?" Kendra asked.

That was when my brainwave ended. "I don't know how," I admitted, feeling a little silly, "but there's got to be a way out of here."

She shook her head slowly. "I don't know... do you really think we can?"

I turned to Kendra, then to the others. "I don't think we have a choice."

* * *

><p>"We need to find their computer database," Iggy declared, as he and Gazzy flew in the air, trailing their latest transporter. They'd been "If we can hack into their system, we can find Ella, instead of searching aimlessly all day long."<p>

"But we've been in their outposts," Gazzy reminded Iggy, "and there weren't any computers. And I don't think they have them in their trucks either."

Iggy just shook his head. "An operation this big has to have a database somewhere. Maybe there's an access computer in the truck you didn't see, or maybe there's some big central headquarters where they keep their records. Maybe there's even a computer in that really big outpost you spotted earlier."

"Maybe," Gazzy replied uncertainly.

"Besides, you said things look different here. Maybe that means something." As they made their way west, scouring outposts along the way and collecting local info, they had stumbled across a gigantic wall that was under construction beneath them—it looked thick enough to build a two-lane highway on the top of it, and it was made of solid concrete. There were hundreds—maybe even thousands—of people working on it, and Gazzy said he couldn't see either end of it. That's really saying something when you're looking down at the ground from nearly twenty thousand feet up in the air, using your super-vision.

On the other side of the wall, things were very different from the rest of the continent. When Gazzy stopped in one city he saw that even though private cars were still forbidden, busses and subways were still in service. Communications were still down in a lot of places, but electronics hadn't been banned and many stores were still open for business. Everyone on this side of the wall seemed to be functioning fairly normal, despite the presence of Collectors on every corner and the dark transporters that patrolled the streets.

"Hey, our truck just turned onto an abandoned country road," Gazzy pointed out. "Should we try to run him off? Then we can check it for computers."

"You're sure there's only one Collector in the transporter?"

"Yup."

"Then let's go for it. You pretend you're going to hit the windshield and I'll take him by surprise when he tries to leave the cab." Then they dive-bombed towards the ground, their target in hot pursuit.

"Here goes nothing!" Gazzy exclaimed, soaring ahead of Iggy to gain speed on the truck. Iggy listened intently for the telltale sounds of screeching brakes and an out-of-control vehicle in the ditch to fill the air, which would promptly be followed by Gazzy's triumphant whooping.

_SCREEEEEEECH!_

_THUMPTHUMPTHUMP..._

"Woo! Yeah!"

That was his cue.

Angling himself towards the noises, Iggy let up as he approached the ground and braced himself for landing. His feet quickly made contact with something solid solid, but instead of the torn-up ground or rough gravel road he'd been expecting, he landed right on the transporter's smooth, metallic roof. _My aim's not half-bad,_ Iggy thought proudly, as he positioned himself directly above the driver's door.

"He's getting out!" Gazzy squealed from a few feet away. The cab door opened, and a boot planted itself on the ground. _Showtime. _Without hesitation Iggy jumped off the roof and planted his feet directly on the Collector's shoulders, sending him toppling to the ground under the sudden weight. Iggy, however, managed to stay on his feet, and rendered the clone unconscious with a final swift kick.

Gazzy ran over to Iggy and exclaimed, "That was awesome!" Then he noticed the Collector. "Uh, is he still alive?"

"Yeah," Iggy reassured him, "He's just going to be really sore and angry when he wakes up. Come on, let's check this thing out."

They searched the transporter from top to bottom, but other than a few extra supplies they came up empty-handed. The truck didn't even have a GPS; there was only a two-way radio and a few unhelpful buttons and switches.

"Another dead end," Gazzy groaned, "Now what?"

"We find that headquarters I mentioned," Iggy proposed, grimacing slightly. "We'll try that big outpost first."

"You're kidding, right?" Gazzy shook his head emphatically, "That place was full of guards and guns! We can't get past that many goons, even if we use all our bombs up!"

"We have to try," Iggy insisted, "We can't keep flitting around hoping for a lucky find. Ella could be anywhere by now, and we need to find her before it's too late! Besides, we've done harder things; as long as we're careful and plan it out we should be okay."

"But is it really worth the risk?" The Gasman pointed out, "If we get caught sneaking around in there, they'll lock us away, and then we won't be able to help anyone! Maybe if we wait for a lead—"

"Wait for a lead! You mean like all that time we spent in Seattle _waiting for a lead _on Max and Fang?"

"I'm just saying, maybe someone else will find her first!"

"There _is_ no one else, Gaz!" Iggy exclaimed, "If we don't rescue Ella, nobody will!"

"But we're never going to find her!" Gazzy shouted in exasperation, "We've been flying for days and days, and nothing's turned up!"

"Which is why we need to get access to their files!"

"But it's not worth the risk!"

"Gazzy, Ella's life is in danger!" Iggy growled, "If it was me or Angel, you'd take on those goons in a heartbeat!"

"Yeah, but Ella's—" Gazzy halted mid-sentence.

"She's what, Gazzy?" Iggy snapped coldly. Gazzy stayed silent. "No really, I want to hear the rest."

"Iggy..." Gazzy began apologetically, trying to calm his blind friend down.

"No, don't 'Iggy' me!" he replied angrily, his last nerve snapping, "You think it's not worth the effort because Ella doesn't have wings, don't you? Well newsflash, Gasman, she's still family—Max's family, to be exact! Max would want us to save her." He turned his head so that his eyes were glaring right where he imagined Gazzy's face to be. "Do you want to look Max in the eyes someday and tell her you didn't do everything possible to save Ella's life?"

There was a tense moment of silence. Finally Gazzy murmured, "You know, Angel says you care about Ella more than you care about the rest of us. Maybe even more than you care about Max and Fang being missing." His feet shuffled solemnly against the gravel road.

Feeling calm enough to speak again, Iggy answered him, "Gazzy, that's not true. I care about all of you—you guys are the only family I've ever had! But Ella's part of our family too, and right now she needs our help." He ran his hand through his hair wearily, feeling worn and weary. "You don't have to help if you don't want to, but I still have to try."

But as he spread his wings and prepared to take off he felt Gazzy's hand reach up to his shoulder. "I'll help you," the boy said quietly, standing next to his older friend and unfurling his own wings.

Iggy exhaled, feeling relieved. "Thank you."

"But I'm only helping because you'd be flying around in circles without me to help you," Gazzy informed him, a hint of a smile in his voice, "And because you have a huge thing for Ella."

Iggy's wings retracted slightly at that statement. "What? I do not!"

Gazzy just snickered, "Sure you don't," and then he took off into the crackling blue sky. Iggy, who continued to loudly deny the Gasman's accusations, followed swiftly after.


	11. Quest for Knowledge

Gahhh! Finally, I've found time to update! *sigh* As fun as it is finishing one vacation and going on another one three days later, it sure leaves a lot of catch-up homework in its wake. And at the end of the school term, no less! But yeah, I'm back now, and now that my life isn't overrun with school I'm going to try and get back to my regular update schedule. ^_^

Oh, and some of you nave noticed that I've used two different spellings of Megan. It's not supposed to have an 'a' in it, but Microsoft Word is always arguing with me about how to spell my characters name. :/ So yeah, it should be fixed for the remainder of the story. (Someday I'll go back and fix the other chapters... maybe.) But anyways, enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>10 – Quest for Knowledge<strong>

I spent every waking hour of the next day trying to think up ways of breaking out. When the doctor injected me with my daily dose of virus, I visualized grabbing the needle out of his hand, jabbing him with it, and then making a run down the hallway. As I was cleaning up, I studied the guards' patrolling habits and stared at my cleaning supplies, wondering if there was any way I could use them to overpower my captors and then flee. In my barrack, I stared at the electrified fencing for what seemed like hours, wondering if I could shut it down long enough to unlock the gate and sneak all eleven of us—soon to be ten, if Rachel's quickly intensifying moaning was any indication—out of here without raising suspicion. But everything I came up with seemed stupid and amateurish, too risky and bumbling to have any real chance of working. Besides, even if we did escape, who's to say we wouldn't be recaptured? And what about all the other kids who would still be trapped here? It seemed cruel to have to leave them behind.

I had, of course, tried going to the one person who actually knew about these kinds of things, but Vera wasn't very supportive. "Escape?" she had laughed at me, "You're funny, kid."

I glared at her in annoyance, not in the mood for her belittling remarks. "I'm serious. I want to get as many people out of here as we can, before the virus changes us all."

Vera stopped smirking, and stared me down with her eerily familiar brown eyes. "How do you know it hasn't already?" My breath hitched for a moment, and my stomach welled up in knots. She continued, "Listen, kid, don't make things harder than they have to be. Don't try to fight them; you'll only get hurt or worse."

My stomach lurched again, but this time more from the virus' than from intimidation. I grimaced. "I'll get hurt or worse anyways if I don't do something." I pointed out, " and Max has escaped places like these before."

"That's because Max was a freakin' superhero with a stupid amount of luck," Vera replied, not bothering to hide the distain in her voice, "And look where she is now! Not even _I'm_ dumb enough to try busting out of this place." She scowled at me. "I'm not helping your little suicide mission, so just give it up before you kill yourself playing jail-breaker."

I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt, having Max's likeness condemn me to failure like that, but the rejection only made me more determined to try. "I'm going to escape," I told her, standing my ground, "whether you help me or not."

"Yeah, right." Vera shakes her head. "Good luck with that."

"So you won't help me?" Silence. "Fine, your loss."

I spun on my heels and marched back to the door, trying to make a confident departure. I pretended not to hear Vera when she muttered, "Some people just don't know when to quit."

So basically, that visit accomplished nothing.

After lights-out that night I lay in my bunk, tossing and turning restlessly because I couldn't sleep. I was feeling a little ill, but the virus wasn't the reason I felt so uneasy. Time was ticking by, and I had yet to find a plan that could get even one person out of this prison, let alone a whole group of girls. There had to be some way out of the facility; no security system was perfect, especially this one. But it was an imperfect system against a bunch of imperfect kids, and my brain was no better than anyone else's at figuring this stuff out.

"Pssst," Anna whispered quietly, "Ella, are you still up?"

"Yeah," I replied, sitting up in bed, "I can't sleep."

"Sick?"

"No more than usual. You?"

"I'm doing alright," she murmured, "I don't think I could say I feel good, though. The virus is getting worse."

"At least we're not as sick as lots of the others," I reasoned. We'd all had a grace period at the beginning, once our bodies had adapted to the injections, but everyone's health was slowly beginning to deteriorate again. There were only a couple of us girls who could still move around without too much discomfort, but it was getting to be an effort even for the healthiest of us—and that seemed to be the case with all the girls' barracks. The doctors had even started getting a couple of boys do some cleaning because most of us girls were close to bed-ridden, too miserable, sick, or grief-paralyzed to do anything else.

Anna nodded, saying, "Sometimes I hope that maybe there's a reason we haven't as gotten as sick as everyone else, that maybe it means our bodies are fighting the virus and winning." She sighed, "But then other times I think it's too late for us. We keep going down one by one—I keep waking up to the noise of someone screaming down the hallway, and when I see the doctors rushing past us with a gurney, I think, 'There's no way we're getting out of here, I could be next.'"

"Do you think," I paused, but then continued, "Do you think that Megan and the others are dead?"

"I don't know," Anna shrugged, shivering slightly, "I try not to think about it too much. It's just a scary thought, you know? Dying all alone, never seeing your friends and family again..."

"Yeah," I agreed quietly. Breathing deeply, I made a noise that fell somewhere between a shudder and a sob. "I'm scared, Anna—really, really scared. I've heard what genetic experiments can do to people, and sometimes... sometimes I feel like no matter what I do, I'm going to die anyways." I steadied myself with a deep breath, "But I can't give up, because if I do I'll die for sure."

Anna cracked a tiny smile at me. "If anyone makes it out of this place in one piece, Ella, it'll be you."

I shook my head, and managed a smile back. "It'll be both of us. If that virus tries anything, we'll fight it kicking and screaming."

"Definitely."

We talked for a few more minutes, before finally we grew drowsy and lay back down in our bunks. And even though I still had no plan and no ideas for getting out of here, I went to sleep feeling better than I had in days.

* * *

><p>"So the place is pretty empty now?" Iggy asked, eager to get going.<p>

"Yup," the Gasman confirmed, "Like two thirds of them are gone."

"It's amazing how much attention a mutant sighting and half a dozen burning buildings can attract. They'll be preoccupied for hours, I bet." Iggy smirked, "Let's get going." He and Gazzy took flight, gliding covertly through the air as they closed in on the Collector outpost. They landed silently within the outpost's chain link perimeter, taking shelter amongst the parked transporters. After waiting a few moments to make sure they hadn't been seen on their way down, the boys quietly made their way towards the building itself, Gazzy's eyes and Iggy's ears primed against stealthy Collector guards.

"There's only one guard at the main door," Gazzy whispered, speaking so quiet even Iggy could barely hear him, "Should we try to take him?"

Iggy shook his head. "Too conspicuous. Let's look for a back entrance."

Sure enough, the building's back entryway was unguarded and dead quiet. It was locked, but nothing that Iggy couldn't cure with his lock-picking kit. "Quick," he motioned for Gazzy to follow him inside, "before they see us on the security cameras."

As they snaked their way through the dim, unused hallways in the bowels of the outpost, Gazzy observed, "This place is like a ghost town. Why is it so dark here?"

"They probably only use part of the building, I bet. And, I could be wrong, but I think I hear snoring on the other side of these doors," Iggy remarked, "If these rooms are the Collectors' sleeping quarters, they wouldn't need much in the way of lights here. See any cameras?"

"No," Gazzy said, "There aren't very many here, I don't think. This place doesn't really seem like much of a clone soldier headquarters."

"It was probably a community center or school or something before the takeover."

"Well that _would_ explain the door over there marked 'Happy Tots Preschool'."

They fell silent, however, when they turned a corner and found themselves in a bright, fluorescent-lit hallway, with voices and footsteps echoing from the rooms up ahead of them. Backtracking into the shadows, Iggy told the Gasman, "Are there any rooms down that hall that aren't crawling with Collectors?"

"A couple of them look empty, but they're right near an open room full of Collectors." Gazzy leaned around the corner and craned his neck to see. "I think they're all using computers or something. Oh, and there's a camera mounted at the head of the hallway."

Iggy took a moment to mentally weigh his options. "Can you sneak over to those doors really quietly and check to see if they're locked?" It was a risk, but if this hallway was one of the Collectors' main centers of operations, perhaps there would be a computer that was hooked up to their main database.

"Sure. Be right back!" The Gasman darted down the hall like a ninja, barely making a noise as his feet crossed the tiled floor. Iggy held his breath, listening as Gazzy jiggled the first doorknob lightly. Locked. But Gazzy wasted no time and moved on to the next door, and to Iggy's delight he heard the knob turn and the door quietly creak open.

Following the source of the sound, Iggy crept over to the open doorway and stepped inside, easing the door shut behind him. He felt out the lock on the knob and twisted it shut, before turning to face the Gasman. "I hear a machine," he noted, "You found a computer."

"Yeah, it's booting up," Gazzy explained, "Though I haven't seen one like this before. It's weird."

"Weird how?" Iggy asked.

"I don't know," he replied, "It just looks really different from a normal computer, and... what?" Gazzy's fingers clacked across the keyboard. "Okay, I definitely haven't seen a computer that worked like this before. What are these Collectors using as an operating system?"

A long, painful stretch of time passed while Gazzy tried to figure out the foreign computer system. Iggy was getting anxious. "What's wrong?" He asked, pacing back and forth nervously, "I thought Nudge taught you how to hack like a pro!"

"I know, I know, I'm working on it! It's just... difficult."

"Gazzy!"

"Don't worry! I think I have it now." After a few more minutes a quiet pinging noise sounded, and then a breath of relief. "Got it! Heh, Nudge would've been proud of that one."

"Yeah yeah, you were great, now find out where Ella is!" _We don't have time for this,_ Iggy thought to himself. They'd wasted enough time here already; they couldn't stay undetected forever. "Is there a search engine? Start by searching for Ella by name."

Gazzy typed in 'Ella Martinez' and hit the search button. "Nope, nothing."

Iggy's heart sank. "Well then try some keywords or something!"

"Like what?"

"I don't know; girls, prisoner, contribution to the Empire?"

More typing and clicking. "I still don't see anything."

"Well then see if you can find some sort of action log for the date they took Ella. They'd keep records of this stuff, right?" Just then Iggy heard the noise of footsteps in the hallway. _Please don't come here, please don't come here, please don't come here..._

"Found it!" Gazzy exclaimed, speaking just a little too loudly.

Iggy shushed him. "Shhh! Gazzy—"

"Hey, who's in there?" a stern voice barked from the other side of the thick steel door.

Iggy turned to Gazzy. "Print off as much as you can, then prepare yourself for a fight." The commotion in the hallway was growing, and there was no mistaking the sound of heavy boots trying to smash the lock.

"It's almost done..." Gazzy muttered, as the printer clicked and lurched eagerly. "Okay... done! Come on, we can push these foamy roof tiles out of the way and crawl out of here!" There was a rustling of papers as Gazzy shoved the documents into his pants and jumped onto a table that sat in the corner of the room. "Give me a boost up!" he whispered urgently, pushing the roof panel aside so he could crawl through the opening. Iggy complied, and then scrambled to find balance as he climbed up into the ceiling inched away from their entry point.

"I don't think this will hold us for much longer," he whispered to the Gasman, struggling to find balance on the flimsy paneling, "Let's lower ourselves into the room below and then get back into the hallway." He pushed another tile out of the way and jumped down, Gazzy following quickly after.

Next door they heard the lock finally give way, and the Collectors swiftly flooded the room where they had just been. "Okay, now!" Iggy yanked the door open, and he and Gazzy took off back down the hallway as fast as they could. The Collectors followed swiftly after, and the boys immediately found themselves in close pursuit.

"Right!" Iggy called to Gazzy, and they darted to the right in an attempt to shake the Collectors of their tail. Iggy's senses were in overdrive, and he felt as if he could hear and feel everything around him all at once. The only time he ever felt this spatially aware was when his brain was in full-out panic mode.

"There's an emergency exit straight ahead!" Gazzy shouted, which urged Iggy to sprint even faster. There was so little space between him and the goons that even the slightest trip-up would kill any chance of escape.

After what seemed like an eternity, Iggy and Gazzy pushed through the emergency exit together, and as soon as they were clear of the door they spread their wings and took off into the sky. "We made it!" Gazzy cheered.

But then the first shot exploded into the night, missing Iggy's left wing by less than a foot. "Evasive manoeuvres!" he cried, "Get out of range, quick!" Iggy made himself as vertical as he could be, pushing his wings hard against the dense night air. The Collectors continued firing, but Iggy and Gazzy had dodged bullets before. The Collectors kept firing, but Iggy was too tricky for them.

When he was at a safe altitude, Iggy turned his body horizontal and cheered, "Hah! We showed them! Good job, Gazzy!"

However, Gazzy was uncharacteristically quiet as he trailed behind his friend. "Iggy..." there was a pained edge to his voice, and Iggy became acutely aware of the Gasman's ragged breathing and half-hearted flapping.

"Are you okay?" He asked, slowing down so that he was at Gazzy's speed. "Did they hit you?"

"I... I think..." Suddenly Gazzy gasped, and he started to go down.

"_Gazzy!_" Iggy dove after the boy.


	12. Desperate Times

**11 – Desperate Times...**

_Flying has to be the most wonderful experience ever. When you're in the air, the world is so much brighter, and all your troubles get left behind on the ground. In the sky there's no walls, no boundaries, nobody trying to hold you back or keep you in. It's just you, the clouds, and the dazzling sun that shines above you._

_I was soaring through the air like an eagle, suspended in the pristine blue by a pair of beautiful, broad-feathered wings that shone golden in the thinning atmosphere. They weren't just any wings, though, they were _my_ wings. They belonged to me—they were a part of me. They released me from every fear I'd ever had, every insecurity that had bogged me down on earth. My wings filled a hole in my heart that I never knew I had, and now I was finally whole. For the first time in a long time, I felt totally and completely free. _

"_Ella!" Suddenly there was a second silhouette on the cloud canopy below, an angel-shaped shadow that was almost parallel to mine. I spotted the figure soaring a few feet above me on my left, and I broke out into a grin._

"_Max!" I cried excitedly. Max was here, and she could see my wings! _

"_Having fun?" she nonchalantly asked, smiling back at me._

_That was when I realized that I was finally good enough—good enough for her, for Iggy, for the Flock, maybe even good enough to save the world. "Look at me, Max!" I cried excitedly, flapping in emphasis, "I have wings now!"_

_Instead of congratulating me, however, Max just laughed good-naturedly. She saw my confused expression, and swooped down so that she was flying at my level. "Ella, what are you talking about? You've always had wings!"_

"_What?" I looked at her with a puzzled expression on my face."No I haven't."_

"_Sure you have!" Max pointed at her chest. "You have them in here, in your heart!"_

"_I... do?"_

_Max nodded. "I know, it's totally a cheesy thing to say, but it's true. You have wings on the inside, Ella, and that's all that really matters." Then she angled her wings upward and began flying towards the sun, going higher and higher, getting smaller and smaller the farther she went..._

And then I opened my eyes, only to find myself staring at the bunk directly above mine. I rotated my shoulders (No wings, big surprise.) and whined softly. _Why do dreams always have to be in your mind?_

The guards had turned the lights on for the day, so I figured now was as good a time as any to get out of bed. I sat on the edge of my bunk and stretched, noticing that 'most everyone else had already crawled out of bed to fetch their rations, and were either curled up under their blankets or sitting and talking quietly amongst each other.

I knew Anna liked having time to eat her breakfast and chat before we went off to get shots, so if she wasn't up before me I always made sure to wake her up. "Hey Anna," I said, grabbing her shoulder and shaking her hard, "Wake up sleepyhead! Erin's circling around your food packets like a shark!" She didn't stir, and I rolled my eyes. "Come on, lazy, it's time to get up!" I sat on the edge of her bunk and rolled her over so that she was lying on her back. "It's probably almost... Anna?" I stared down at my friend, realizing how ghostly pale she was. Her bare skin was icy cold against my hand, which still rested on her arm. "Anna," I tried again, "Anna, wake up!" I kept shaking her, waiting for her to open her eyes and groan about interrupting her beauty sleep.

Then Kendra wandered over. "What's wrong with Anna?" she asked, growing a little pale herself.

"I-I don't," I stammered, "I don't know!" Then I stopped jostling Anna and put my fingers to her neck.

That's when I screamed.

"She doesn't have a pulse!" I cried, checking again just to be sure. Nothing.

"What!" Everyone flocked to Anna's bunk, as if crowding around her would cause her to wake up. Bailey, who had lifeguard training, managed to get everyone to clear out while she tried performing CPR, and a couple of the girls ran over to the chain link and started shouting for the guard to fetch a doctor.

But when the doctors finally arrived with the gurney and a defibrillator, I knew they were too late—we had all been too late. Anna was gone.

* * *

><p>That afternoon I got to the hallway and finished cleaning the rooms in record time. Once that was over with, I snuck into room 142 as soon as the guard wasn't looking. "Aw, did somebody miss me?" Vera teased when I stepped inside. Then she saw the expression on my face. "Whoa," she said, taken aback, "you look about ready to kill someone."<p>

"I need you to give me information on how to get out of here," I told her tersely.

Just as I had expected, Vera rolled her eyes at me condescendingly. "Look, I already told you, I'm not helping with your little escape attempt. Besides, who says I even have anything useful to tell?"

"You're Max's clone." Vera's jaw clenched at the mention. "There's no way you haven't been looking for a way to break out of here. You notice things, and I want to know what you know."

"Forget it," Vera replied, "There's no way that one kid can break out of this place alone."

I knew it was time to reveal my plan, the plan that had been running around in my head since this morning, when they took Anna away and I knew I was desperate enough to start thinking crazy. "But that's just it," I said to her, "I'm not going to do it alone. I have a plan that will save all of us."

Vera looked at me sceptically, but I could tell I had her interest. "Like what?"

"A hostile takeover," I replied determinately, "We're going to overthrow the staff and put the building into lockdown. It won't be easy, but if we play our cards right—"

That's when Vera burst out laughing. "Kid, you're crazier than your sister! Besides," she shifted in her cage, "what's in it for me? And 'I'll let you out if we get free' isn't going to cut it, considering there's like a ninety-nine percent chance that you're going to fail miserably and the guards will beat you into saying who helped you." _At last._ She had finally opened herself up for negotiation.

And, of course, anyone who's ever met an Avian American knows that there's one sure-fire way to haggle with them. "How much are they feeding you?" I asked Vera, watching her eyes light up at the mention of food.

"Not nearly enough," she replied, "Why?"

"I get four packets of food a day: two at breakfast and two at dinner," I answered, "If you give me the information I want so I can plan my escape, I'll give you half of my rations until the breakout. I'll sneak them here with me when I come to clean the examination rooms."

"And if you get caught?"

"It's a risk I'm willing to take."

"Of course _you'd_ say that," Vera scoffed, "If they find us out you're just a pitiful little kid who's too curious and stupid for her own good. Me? I'm a devious mutant mastermind who needs to be punished and controlled. Don't be surprised if there's another puddle of blood that needs cleaning up afterwards."

I nodded, knowing that everything she said was true. "The risks could be huge, but you want the food and I need the info, and we both have to get out of this place before it's too late. You know you have a better chance of escaping with an ally on the outside, so what do you say?"

Vera was quiet for a second, before remarking, "You're really serious about this."

I nodded solemnly, never once breaking eye contact with her. "I have nothing left to lose at this point. Every day I spend here is one more day I might not survive."

Vera looked away from me, and slowly, finally, she nodded in agreement. "Alright, I'm in. We'll start tomorrow." Then her expression grew closed off again, as she glared at me hard to remind me who's boss. "But make sure you bring the food, or I'm out."

I nodded. "It' a deal." And then without another word I turned and left, trying to stop a grin from forming on my face.

* * *

><p>I cannot believe that I was late uploading this chapter! You'd think of all the times to be late with, the one thing I'd do on time would be post a fanfiction chapter where I kill a character. Urgh! Ah well, there you have it. Feel free to leave reviews telling me how happysad/angry/shocked/apathetic you feel after reading this update.


	13. Closer to Progress

**12 – Closer to Progress**

"Iggy, I'm fine!" Gazzy complained loudly, "I don't need another day here."

Iggy just shook his head firmly. "You got pretty banged up. We're staying put one more night until I'm sure you're a hundred percent better."

One bullet had nicked Gazzy's shoulder and another one had grazed side of his head, disorienting him and leaving a couple of nasty, bloody gashes behind. He had managed to slow his descent enough to avoid becoming a splat mark on the forest floor, but he'd still hit a few tree branches on the way down. The wounds were superficial and the slight bruising he'd received had mostly cleared up, but Gazzy's head had gotten pretty rattled, and Iggy wasn't taking any chances.

However, now that his vision wasn't spinning and it didn't hurt so much to move, Gazzy was up and itching to go. "Iggy, I'm okay now!" He insisted, "I want to keep moving!"

"You might've gotten a concussion or something," Iggy reminded him, "so just take it easy."

"But I'm not hurt anymore!" Gazzy insisted. "Besides, what about Ella? You're the one who keeps saying we have to hurry up and find her."

"You're every bit as important as Ella, and I want to make sure you're all better first." He took a seat on the ground next to Gazzy. "So you're going to sit here and rest until I say so. Understand?" Iggy shook his head and sighed tiredly. "I'm sorry, Gaz," he apologized, "this whole thing was my fault. I shouldn't have taken such a stupid risk." The weeks of endless flying and emotional exhaustion were catching up to him, and right about then he was ready to curl up into a ball and sleep for a month.

Gazzy placed his hand comfortingly on Iggy's shoulder. "No, Iggy, you were right. Ella needs us, and that was the only way we could get the info we needed. It's just... I guess I felt kinda jealous, you know? Because now Ella's the one you hang out with all the time." He sighed dejectedly.

"I'm sorry, Gasman. I don't mean to make you feel left out." Iggy frowned apologetically.

Gazzy shrugged. "It's not your fault," he explained, "It's just that you and Ella have been spending so much time together, especially after Max and Fang disappeared, and you seemed... it was like you didn't need us anymore."

"Gazzy, Ella could never replace you, or anyone in the Flock," he told Gazzy, putting his arm around him reassuringly, "I'd never let anyone come between me and my family."

"I know that now," Gazzy answered quietly. Then he asked, "You really like her, don't you?"

"Ella?" Iggy gaped slightly, suddenly feeling put on the spot. "We're just friends, Gazzy, you know that." But even as the words came out of his mouth he knew how unconvincing he sounded.

"Max and Fang were 'just friends'," Gazzy prodded.

"Max and Fang are Max and Fang," Iggy stated flatly, "Just because it happened to them it doesn't mean Ella and I are going to get together."

"So you don't like her."

"Only as a friend." Then Iggy hesitated slightly. "Well... I mean, I never even thought about... Ella's just Ella. Isn't she?"

Gazzy sniggered at Iggy's contorting facial expressions. "You sound really confused. It's obvious Ella has a gigantic crush on you, so if you like her back, why not just say so?"

"Because she's like my sister's sister, practically related to me," Iggy attempted to rationalize, "And there's a big difference between having a crush on someone and actually wanting to go out with them."

"Ah-hah! So you do have a crush on her!"

Iggy stammered, "No! I-It's not like that! I mean, she wouldn't actually want to—" then he cut himself off, trying to salvage whatever dignity he had left. "Look, it would never work out between us. I'm a blind freak with wings, and she's just so... normal. She's smart and pretty and kind, and she has everything in the world going for her. I'd only be messing things up if I asked her out. She doesn't... she doesn't know what she'd be getting into."

"Doesn't she?" Gazzy told him, "Iggy, I hear you guys talking; you tell her all sorts of freaky stuff that you've been up against, and she's okay with it—even the stuff that us Flockers won't talk about. You haven't scared her away yet. Besides, after getting kidnapped by a bunch of evil clone soldiers, I bet her life is pretty freaky too. She'll know what you're going through."

Iggy felt the corners of his mouth curled up slightly. "Yeah, I guess so." He told his young friend, "You're a smart kid, Gasman. Thanks."

"I still think it's weird, but I guess if Ella makes you happy, then I'm happy too." He made a tiny noise of disgust. "Just don't start making out all over the place like Max and Fang. It's gross."

"Yeah, well, I don't think that will be a problem any time soon," Iggy made a face somewhere between a grin and a grimace, "Ella's still missing at the moment, you may have noticed."

"Well then let's get going and find her!" Gazzy exclaimed, jumping up from the ground.

"Gazzer—"

"Iggy, I'm fine, I promise! We can hide out in the bush all day _after_ we find your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Not yet, she isn't."

Iggy mentally rolled his eyes, and finally conceded, "Fine, let's take a look at that log and figure out where they've dragged Ella off to."

"Great!" Gazzy pulled out the slightly crumpled, slightly blood-crusted computer print-out and said, "I was looking over these earlier, and it says that they kidnapped a girl from the Martinez' home address and took her to some facility on the West Coast..."

* * *

><p>Honestly, I'm impressed how outwardly relaxed I stayed when the guard escorted me to my cleaning assignment, as I tried not to give away the fact that I had a couple of food packets stuffed down my sweatpants. I'd spent most of the morning practicing how to walk without looking stiff or nervous, and by the time it was time to go I was all set.<p>

"Did you bring the food?" was the first thing Vera asked when I entered the room.

"Right here," I replied, pulling the packets out and sticking them through the bars. Vera frowned slightly, having just seen exactly how I had smuggled them to her, but she didn't complain once the wrapper was off and she was wolfing down the tasteless tree bark they called food.

"Much better," she said, once every last crumb had been eaten. "Here, take the wrappers. We wouldn't want our lab coat buddies to find these lying around in here."

I took the wrappers from her, then said, "Now, about that information...?"

"Alright," Vera agreed, nodding approvingly, "you held up your end of the deal, so I'll hold up mine. Listen carefully, because you'll need to know this stuff: for starters, this building sits on a small, unpopulated isle called Springer Island. It was an abandoned factory before these guys took it and converted it into a lab, which is why most of the walls around here are either new and cheap or old and iron. This building wasn't built for security, and there aren't any alarms or cameras anywhere because they think all of you are too stupid to escape.

"They're short on men, what with that whole continental takeover going on outside, so there's only six of those clone guards on patrol. Their job is just to babysit you and make sure you're not hurting yourselves or attacking doctors or whatever, but they're all super-strong. Plus, there's like twenty doctors and lab techs here, and even though they're not superhuman they could still handle you guys no problem.

"There's no phone or internet connections because of the blackouts, but they still have radio in case of emergencies. On top of that, they have safety check-ins two times a day—they contact mainland at exactly 8:00 am and 8:00 pm, and if a check-in gets missed they'll assume the worst and send a whole troop of Collectors here to investigate."

"So we either do the check-ins ourselves or get off the island before the twelve hours is up," I noted.

"This place was designed to hold sick teenagers, not escape artists," Vera told me, "but you have to play it carefully. One false move, and they'll have backup forces in here faster than you can say 'oops'. Your greatest strength is their under-estimation of you; not even those super-paranoid genetically modified goons view you as a threat. You're just weak, ordinary, brain-dead teenagers to them, so don't give them a reason to think you're anything more than that."

"Got it," I replied, repeating the facts in over in my head. "That's enough for me to start on. I'll be back tomorrow."

"Yeah, okay," Vera said, "But be sure to bring the food! Oh, and keep looking for gaps in their security. Spotting a wandering eye can be the difference between a cage and freedom."

"Gotcha." Then I slipped out of the room to get back to my cleaning—and to my scheming.


	14. The Escape Committee

**13 – The Escape Committee**

My heart sunk when I got back to my barrack and saw that Cammie was gone. _Thirteen down, seven to go. _I was pretty bummed, since she had always been so sweet and likeable, but I would have to save feeling bad about it for later. I had been running Vera's information through my head over and over as I did my cleaning, repeating it until I knew the details inside and out, and so the only thing left to do was start hatching my escape plan.

It must have been a full hour that I spent sitting silently in my bunk, going over everything I'd seen and learned in the past three-plus weeks in an attempt to generate ideas on how to break out. I had a few tactics kicking around in my brain, but I needed to factor in Vera's information and figure out how I would get supplies I needed to pull my plan off. I could find a bunch of stuff while I was out cleaning, I reckoned. Most of the cupboards were securely locked, but maybe room 142, which already had a locked door, had some accessible supplies that I could use.

I ran with that train of thought for a long while, but it wasn't too long before I hit a mental block. I had my basic idea template, which gave me a general direction to go with, but I was still coming up a bit short in the finer details department. Finally I decided that I couldn't figure this out alone; I needed some additional input. Maybe the outside opinions would provide a helpful new perspective to things.

Almost everyone was too sick and miserable in bed to be of any real help, but I gathered together the handful of us that was still functioning semi-normally. Despite the slim pickings, I was still pleased with my little group: Kendra, Heidi, Cara-Louise, and Erin were all strong, smart, and reliable, so I was confident we'd be able to come up with something together.

First I explained the situation and relayed everything I had learned from Vera, using games of "Patty Cake" and other such games to make our cross-legged huddle less suspicious—the noise of the two girls playing helped mask my words from the guards as the other two listened carefully. I laid out the ideas I'd come up with and made sure that they all memorized all the information I'd gathered up to that point, that way if something happened to me (death, mutation, debilitating illness, etc.) the others might still have a chance if they knew what I knew. That took a while to go over, but once they were all fully briefed I started discussing strategy.

"I think the first thing we need to do is make contact with the other prisoners," I explained quietly to Erin and Kendra, as Cara-Louise and Heidi clapped hands and chanted rhymes, "We need to get the other girls in on the plan if this is going to work. But how?"

"Maybe if we slip them a piece of paper through the fence?" Erin suggested, "If we got the angle right, it might land in the other barrack."

I shook my head. "There's at least a two inch space between our barrack and the next one over, and the guard is more likely to see it than the girls. Besides, if we touch the fence we'll get zapped."

"And where will we get paper, or something to write with?" Kendra pointed out.

"We have toilet paper," I reminded her, "and we have the paper towel for puke clean-up, that could also be used."

"And a pen?"

"There's one in the Scrabble box, for keeping score. Ah, the score sheet! That's another possible paper source! Though most of that paper's already been used up..."

"Alright," Erin said, "but back to the problem: how do we pass notes to the other girls?"

Just then I glanced over at the corner of the room, where the end bunks were pushed up against the wall. The thick plastic partition separating us from the other barracks was fastened to the original factory wall, but I wanted to see what was keeping it in place. "I'm going to go check that wall," I told them, "hang on a sec."

I dashed over to the room's left corner and climbed into the bottom end bunk, so I could get an up close look at the seam between the plastic and the iron. My brow wrinkled with interest as I assessed the set-up. The plastic paneling was fastened into place with metal brackets, but it looked as if there was still a tiny gap between the original wall and the partition, which they had filled in with some sort of rubbery glue substance. I prodded at the glue, and noted how soft and crumbly it felt. _I wonder..._ I jumped off the bunk and ran over to the right corner of the room, where our bathroom facilities were. The showerhead we all shared was fixed in the corner and they hadn't installed an actual shower wall. Because of this, I noticed, the glue was water warped and it was starting to come loose. I ripped a piece of it out from the gap, about half an inch thick and two inches long, and I realized that if we could pry all the way through we could slip paper through the spaces between the partitions.

I returned to the huddle, and told them, "There's a gap in both of the corners that they sealed over, but if we had something to pick at it we could open it up and slip a piece of paper through. What do we have that could be used for picking at the glue?"

"The pen?" Erin offered.

"No," Kendra shook her head, "It might break or something. We should save it for writing."

"Keep your eyes peeled for any long, sharp objects, then," I told them, "I can steal something tomorrow if we don't."

Just then Bailey, who was lying on the bunk behind us, spoke up, "You'll need a distraction to escape, probably," she pointed out, "whenever someone gets sick and starts making a fuss, everyone goes running to where the noise is. That would distract like two guards, at least."

"Good point," I told her, "If we could get one of the farther away barracks to cause a disruption, like if one of them faked being sick or they all started fighting or something, the guards wouldn't be paying attention while we fiddled with the gate."

Cara-Louise got Kendra to switch out and continue the distraction with Heidi, and then suggested, "Could you get rubber gloves or something? The gloves might not hold up very long if you keep touching the fence, but it's still one more layer between you and the electricity."

"How will we get the gate open?" Erin asked.

"I don't know..." I rubbed my temples, "The only knob is on the outside, and we have no way of kicking it or beating the door open or anything." We discussed several different tactics, all to no avail. Finally I gave up, and decided to re-cap what we'd already determined.

"Alright, so here's our plan so far: we get the other barracks onboard, get one of the far groups to cause a distraction, then while the guard is preoccupied we break out and free as many girls as possible."

"Then what?" Cara-Louise prompted.

"We..." I trailed off, "I'm not sure. We could just start running for it, but even if we avoided the staff and found an exit we'd have nowhere to go, since we're on an island. Even if we did find an escape boat, someone would probably radio for help and they'd be waiting for us when we got to shore." The burst of confidence I'd gotten when we'd begun forming this plan was quickly deflating.

Then Bailey spoke again. "I think know where the room with the radio equipment is," she recalled quietly, "I was getting my shots a couple days ago when my doctor got news that one of his guy patients had gone into cardiac arrest or whatever. He didn't want to leave me alone in the medical room, so he dragged me along with him. Right before we turned into the hallway with the boys' barracks, we passed an open room with a bunch of wires and electronic equipment and stuff. There was some guy in there, speaking into a microphone." She sighed, "It's pretty far away from here, though; the scientists would probably get there before you did."

"So the communications room is right near the boys," I muttered, pondering this for a few moments. A new idea was slowly beginning to form in my head. "If you had to guess, how many guys did you see that looked well enough to move around and stuff?"

"There were a lot more of them than us," Bailey recalled, "I only got a good look at the barrack where the dying kid was... there were about eight boys crowded around him, and then some on the bunks."

"How old were they?"

"Somewhere between sixteen and eighteen, maybe?"

Wheels were turning in my head. _The boys are stronger, closer to the communications room, and there are more of them..._ "Then the solution is simple," I declared, a sly smile crossing my face, "_We're_ not going to break out of this dump. The boys are."


	15. Next Phase

****Gahhhh! There are really no words to describe how negligent I've been in updating lately. *sigh* I blame end of the year madness. (Passed my tests with flying colors. Senior year, here I come!) Anyways, here's a couple of chapters for you all to enjoy. ^_^

* * *

><p><strong>14 – Next Phase<strong>

"You're in a good mood today," Vera noted when I came to drop off her food packets.

"Plans are falling into place," I declared, as I greedily eyed the counter drawers and cabinets across the room. I pulled on the handle of one of the drawers, and was thrilled to find it unlocked. It was full of what looked like little kits of medical picks. "You don't think they'll notice if I take some stuff, do you?" I asked Vera.

"I doubt it; they never use any of the junk in here. I think they keep most of what they need in the examination rooms." She eyed the pointy tools I was holding. "Any particular reason you need them?"

"I'm gonna whip these out and poke the guards into submission," I replied, keeping a straight face as I spoke.

Vera stared at me as if I was wearing my pants on my head. "You _are_ joking."

"Yes, Vera, I'm joking." I cracked a smile and laughed, "Give my puny human brain some credit, please!"

She rolled her eyes. "Just checking." There was silence for a couple minutes, as I continued to rummage through the supply cabinets, and then, "So, what's it like having the infamous Maximum Ride for a sister?"

This time I was the one stopping to look at Vera in surprise, caught off guard by her question. "It's pretty good, most the time," I told her, "I mean, she's rough and bossy and sometimes forgets to brush her hair, but underneath the tough girl act she's a really nice person. I wish I could be more like her." I blushed slightly, feeling silly for saying that last part.

Vera scoffed at me. "Why on earth would you want to be like Max?"

I stopped rummaging and looked over at Vera. "Because she's one of the strongest, most heroic people I know. She's brave, and smart, and compassionate, and she doesn't let anything hurt her. She's..."

"...everything you're not?" Vera raised her eyebrows at me. I frowned slightly, and then sighed. Denying it was pointless. "Well trust me," she told me, "being Max is overrated. You have no idea how easy your life is compared to hers—compared to mine! The last thing on earth I'd want to do is be like Maximum Ride." Then she was the one sighing, "And yet that seems to be my lot in life."

I nodded slowly. "It must be weird being...you know."

"A clone?" Vera scowled. "Do you know how frustrating it is? From day one of my existence I was in a competition with Max. I spent my entire life trying to be a better, more efficient version of her, studying her every move and perfecting it until I was ten times better at it than she was. And you know what? In the end she still beat me." She wrapped her fingers around the bars of her cage, clutching them angrily. "She didn't even have the decency to put me out of my misery. I've spent every day since then thinking about our fight, trying to figure out what she had that I didn't." Then Vera looked me square in the eye. "That's what it's like being a clone: you spend your entire life stuck somewhere between hating your original and wishing you could be them."

"I'm sorry," I murmured quietly.

"Sorry is pointless," Vera glowered, "All I want now is to get out of here and live my life undisturbed."

"Yeah, well, with any luck, that will happen soon." I'd looked through all the supplies in the drawers, and I was pleased with what I had gathered: two sets of those little pointy tools, a new package of pens, a handful of rubber bands, and a pair of awesome-looking surgical scissors. "Aren't surgical scissors really sharp?" I asked.

"I've seen them cut through a penny before."

I separated the blades and looked at them closely, marvelling at how something could be that strong. "Then maybe these will be enough to get through the fence." The cabinets were all locked, but I considered this supply run to be successful. "There is one more thing I need from you, though..."

"Right, here's the food wrappers." Vera handed them to me through the bars.

"Besides that," I explained, taking the wrappers, "I need one of your feathers for something."

Vera stared at me incredulously. "What would you need that for?"

I smiled mysteriously. "I'm going on a bit of a diplomatic visit today, and I'll need a little persuasion power."

* * *

><p>I had spotted him out just that morning, while I was doing my regular-sweep up of the hallway. He was busy with his own sweeping, not even fifty feet away, glancing in my direction every once in a while, but other than that completely unaware that I was watching him. He was around my age, I guessed, if not a little older; he was the oldest guy I'd seen on clean-up duty by far, the others looking around twelve or thirteen. In the absence of enough healthy girls to contribute, I guess they had tried to fill in with younger, weaker guys, but I suppose they had run low too. Sure, the guy in the hall across from mine wasn't especially tall or strong, but he looked fairly healthy, and he didn't seem like the type of prisoner you'd want running around unless you were out of options. After all, heaven forbid the doctors go without sparkling clean examination rooms or hire new janitorial staff. (I still don't want to know what happened to the first guys.)<p>

Today was the day, I had decided, that I would establish a male contact and get this ball rolling. My plan was to wait until one of the guards escorted another kid away to the barracks, then I'd just have to wait for the remaining guard to turn his back so I could dart across to the other hall.

I dawdled longer than I should when I cleaned the hallway floor, casting sideways glances across to make sure my guy was still there. How long did it take the other kids to clean, anyways? It seemed like I had been waiting forever for someone to finish. But finally someone went up to the guard and said they were done tidying up, and the two of them returned to the barrack together. _Here we go. _Now was my best chance to act.

I swept nonchalantly at my hall's entrance, waiting for the other guard to pass me by so I could sneak across. I saw my guy step into one of the examining rooms, probably to do some cleaning in there. _Good, we can talk in there without being overheard._ A moment later guard strode past at a stiff but relaxed pace, and I tried my best not to look impatient. _Come on... _I urged silently, waiting until he was about twenty feet down the corridor from me. _Okay, do it now!_ Before I could chicken out of my plan I darted across the corridor into the other hallway, my bare feet almost silent on the smooth concrete.

I knew that in a couple of seconds the guard would turn around and start walking back this way, so I had to get out of sight fast. Turning to the room that my guy had stepped into, I eased open the door and then slipped inside. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief as I quietly closed it behind me.

"Who are you?" I looked up and saw that my would-be ally was standing there and staring at me. He wore rubber gloves and held a sponge and a spray bottle in his hands, an indication that I had interrupted his cleanup.

"I'm here to talk to you," I said evenly.

He shifted uncomfortably. "If they find us talking here—"

"They won't."

The guy sighed, anxious and exasperated. "What do you want?"

"My name is Ella," I introduced myself, then told him upfront, "and how do you feel about attempting a hostile takeover of this medical facility?"


	16. Caught!

**15 – Caught!**

My blunt approach, of course, was met with a blank stare. "You're insane," he declared as he half laughed, half hyperventilated, "Have you seen the guards? A couple of guys in my barrack tried to rush one of them—bad idea. One of them got his front teeth knocked out."

"That's why we have to work together," I explained, "Look, the girls have been working on a way to get everybody out at once, but to do it we have to shut down the communications room before the scientists can put out a distress call over the radio. The boys' bunks are right down the hall from there, so if you took our plan and used it to break out—"

"Forget it," he cut me off, "if they caught us we'd be dead. And even if I did want to help, there's no way I'd be able to convince the guys in my barrack to risk their necks on a last-ditch escape plan given to me by a fourteen-year-old girl."

I scowled slightly. "I'm sixteen, actually." But I had been expecting this sort of reaction. Now it was time to bring out the ace.

Donning a dramatically suspicious expression, I glanced nervously from side to side, as if double-checking to make sure nobody was listening in on us. "Look," I told him in a lowered voice, "I wasn't supposed to tell you this unless I absolutely had to, but since you won't take me seriously otherwise I guess I don't have a choice. The truth is, we didn't come up with the plan. Maximum Ride did."

A glint of interest appeared in his eyes. "Maximum Ride? As in, the girl with the wings and the whole 'world-saving' campaign?"

I nodded. "That's right, she's here at the complex. Where do you think they're getting the avian DNA for this experiment?" That's when I pulled Vera's feather out of my waistband, holding it up so that he could see it. "She's broken out of places like this before, and she says that if we all join forces we actually stand a chance at getting out of here in one piece. There's only six guards and twenty medical staff members, and we have the element of surprise on our side. After all, nobody expects a bunch of sick kids to try anything crazy."

The guy was quiet for a moment as he contemplated what I said, and then, "Alright, what's the plan?"

I grinned at him. "I'll bring a written copy to you tomorrow," I said, "but in the meantime, take these," I handed him the supplies I had swiped from Vera's room, which were still tucked into my waistband, "as long as you don't walk funny you should be able to smuggle these back to your barrack without a problem. You'll need them for the escape. Also, you'll need a way to insulate yourself from the fence. Rubber gloves, rubber bands—the more layers you can put between you and the fence, the better."

"Okay," he nodded, trying to take in all the details. Then he added, "I'm Craig, by the way."

"Craig..." I studied his face for a minute. He seemed familiar, for some reason. Had I met him before? "We'll talk more tomorrow. Be careful when you're sneaking that stuff back to your barrack, and make sure you hide the items really well so the guard doesn't see them." Before I left I told him a little more about our plan, giving him a basic idea of what they'd need to do and what to tell his bunkmates.

"Gotcha." Just as I was turning to leave, however, he called out, "Hey, Ella?"

"Yes?" I asked.

"Have you... have you seen my sister at all, since you got here? Her name is Anna. Anna Bartoli."

I froze up for a moment and swallowed nervously, unsure what to say. My gaze lowered, and told him, "I'm sorry, Craig. She's gone."

"Oh." An odd look crossed his face and he blinked hard, like he was trying to hold back tears. "I see." Clenching his jaw firmly, he blinked a few more times and then looked back at me, nodding. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you." Then I left, but not soon enough to avoid a new wave of sorrow—and a greater determination to get out of here before it was too late for the rest of us.

* * *

><p>"It's a place called Springer Island," Gazzy explained, as he and Iggy worked together to set up a tarp, "I asked around, and everyone says the only building on it is an old abandoned factory."<p>

"I'd bet my shoes they've turned it into some sort of School," Iggy grumbled, fiddling with the rope as he tried to knot his corner into place. The rain was getting worse, and if they didn't have this cover set up in time they would be sleeping on wet ground tonight.

"Nobody has been there in years," Gazzy continued, "but I talked to this one captain guy, and he said that before the takeover happened he started seeing small boats going to and from the island. I asked if he could take us there on his ship, but he said that nobody was supposed to leave shore until further notice, and that he didn't want to cause a stir with the Collectors."

"This rain isn't making things very seaworthy either, I bet," Iggy noted, securing the last corner and then taking shelter under the tarp. The rain was falling harder by the minute, and until this storm let up they could forget about flying.

Gazzy shivered and joined Iggy underneath. "If it gets really bad we'll have to find a building or something to hide out in. How long do you think it'll rain like this?"

"No idea," Iggy replied. "though I wonder if we'll get another rain like this anytime soon. Do you know if any of those weather factory things are up and running yet?" With the force field cutting off natural air and water flow, human intervention would be necessary to purify air and water and to manage the continental climate.

"Some of them, I think," Gazzy shrugged, "Now that things are settling down, they want to keep people busy with regular jobs so they don't get restless."

Iggy snorted. "Well I know that _I'm_ getting restless."

"Maybe we should go work in a factory until the rain quits," Gazzy joked.

"Nah," he smiled, "Things will clear up in one, two days tops. Then it's clear sailing out to the island." _Hang on, Ella, we're almost there._

* * *

><p>I spent most of the rest of that day in the bathroom corner, writing my plan out—not only was my explanation lengthy, but it's pretty dang hard to write out an escape plan on a flimsy length of toilet paper. If the guard noticed how much time I spent behind the shower curtain he didn't let on, so other than stopping to grab my rations for the day I was hidden back there the whole time.<p>

I finished copying out the plan just before lights out, then I hid the folded toilet paper in my waistband for safekeeping. As I did this I grimaced, my fingers brushing against the skin my sensitive stomach. I'd been cramping up since earlier that day, and I'd been feeling uncomfortably feverish for the last couple of hours. My optimistic side told me to blame my apparently worsening symptoms on paranoia or my monthlies, but at this point I knew there was a far more likely option. Still, I was determined to see this plan through to the end, if not for me then for all the other kids in this place.

The next morning I didn't feel any better, but I got myself out of bed anyways, carefully double-checking to make sure my toilet paper plan and Vera's food packets were well-hidden beneath my clothes. "Today's the day," I murmured, "We're finally going to put this plan into action."

"Ella, are you sure you should go today?" Kendra asked, "You look terrible."

"I'm fine," I lied, "I just didn't sleep well last night." In reality my insides were churning like a blender and every step made me want to double over in pain, but I had to stay strong. Everyone else was depending on me now.

I managed to hold myself together as the guard led me to the hall, knowing that if I showed how sick I really felt they might put me back and send someone else—someone who not only didn't have a copy of the plan, but might be from a different barrack all together. That could close our window of opportunity for good.

But I finally arrived at my assigned hall, and I dutifully started into my cleaning duties. It was a tedious job, trying to tidy up when I felt like I could vomit at any moment, but getting sick now wasn't an option. Craig and I shot knowing looks at each other as we swept our hallway floors, and when my tidy-up was done I snuck across to him and we ducked into an examination room together.

"Here's the plan," I told him, pulling out the paper wad and passing it to him.

"Toilet paper?" He snorted. "Classy."

I shrugged sheepishly. "We were going to use paper towel, but we had a few puke incidents that cut our supply short. Plus, the toilet paper isn't as bulky." Craig folded the paper up, and I politely looked away as he stuffed it down his pants. "Did you nab some rubber gloves?" I asked.

He nodded. "I told the guys in my barrack about the plan, and most of them are onboard. We've even started clearing out that caulking stuff so we can pass notes to the other barracks through the gaps."

"Great!" I told him, "Just be sure to—" all of a sudden the door opened, and an angry-looking guard stepped in.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" He questioned, glaring harshly at us. The guard took a menacing step closer...


	17. High Stakes

****Sorry again for the super late update, I've been very, very busy lately. Like, I-took-a-summer-job-that-turned-out-to-be-ten-times-more-work-than-school busy. (Not that any of you guys seemed especially anxious to see an update. :/ Just saying.) Anyways, here's the next chapter! :)

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><p><strong>16 - High Stakes<strong>

...And then I burst into tears. "I'm sorry!" I cried, "This is all my fault! Please don't hurt him!" I threw myself into Craig's confused arms, "It's just that it's been months since I've seen him, and I just wanted to—oh, please, I was the one who snuck over to talk. I swear, he had nothing to do with this!" I looked up at Craig with big, dramatically frightened eyes.

Craig caught on pretty fast from there. "No," He insisted, wrapping his arms around me protectively, "it's my fault too. She shouldn't be the only one punished." We stood there in our awkward embrace, looking like a couple of scared, pathetic, love struck teenagers.

The guard glared at us for a minute, then rolled his eyes as if to say, _you stupid kids_. I held in a sigh of a relief. "You two are the last finishing your cleaning assignments."

"I-I'm done cleaning my hall," I sniffled, "I'm so sorry, I know I shouldn't have, I just—"

The guard cut me off, "I'll let you off the hook this time. Just don't let me catch you sneaking around again. Now come with me so that your _boyfriend_ can finish his cleaning." There was no pity or mercy in this statement, just disinterest mixed with impatience and mild irritation.

I dared to steal a glance back in Craig's direction as the guard was leading me away. He gave me a thumbs up, a smirk of approval lingering on his face. _Nice one. _I stifled a self-satisfied smile and allowed myself the tiniest bit of relief. My part was done for now; all that was left to do was wait for the guys to come through.

When I arrived at the barracks the other girls were either sitting up in bed or poised on the edge of their bunks, eager to hear how the exchange had gone. All I did was nod slightly, and say, "It's good," then I retreated to my bunk, feeling thoroughly spent. I took in a sharp breath as I eased myself down, finally allowing myself to be aware of how much pain I was in. _You're almost there,_ I told myself, _a few more days and you're home free. _But then a wave of nausea hit me and I twisted my body over the edge of the bed, retching onto the floor. The sudden, painful movement combined with the violent gagging was almost suffocating, and it hurt enough to make me want to scream. Could I really make it to the end, or was I as good as gone already?

* * *

><p>The next day Vera was sitting uncomfortably in her cage, stomach grumbling. <em>Where is Ella?<em> She wondered with annoyance. _She'd better show up._ The measly little rations those mad scientists had supplied her with that morning had long since worn off, and Vera's stomach had been grumbling for the better part of an hour. But Ella would be showing up any minute now, food packets in hand and optimistic escape plans in tow.

To say that Vera trusted Ella's plan would be a pretty big stretch. She of all people knew that the odds were stacked against both of them, and all it would take is one wrong move or stroke of bad luck to make Ella's schemes come tumbling down. Still, the girl was determined and, Vera had to admit, not altogether incompetent. Who knew, something productive might actually come from this alliance.

Finally the doorknob jiggled and slowly eased open, and Vera felt her spirits brighten. _Food!_ She was highly surprised, however, when a girl other than Ella stepped through the door. "Um, hi, you're Vera?" the girl said nervously.

Vera's felt her chest seize up a little, and she narrowed her eyes. "She's dead, isn't she."

The girl stared at her in confusion for a moment, before realizing, "Oh, you mean Ella?" she shook her head. "No no, nothing's happened to her, at least, not yet. I'm Kendra, and Ella sent me here to give you these." She pulled out two food packets and then approached Vera, pushing them through the bars for her to grab.

"Not yet," Vera repeated quietly, the uncomfortable feeling in her chest only slightly relieved. "How bad is she?"

Kendra sighed, a troubled expression lingering on her face. "She's sick, sicker than she's ever been. That's why she stayed back—she thought she should keep resting so she'll be ready for the takeover, when it finally happens." She grimaced. "Though honestly, there's probably no way the guard would've let her volunteer for cleaning duty again anyways. She looks terrible."

"Huh," Vera replied casually, as if someone had just told her about the weather or their pet cat, "So the plan got passed on, then?"

"Yeah. Ella had a close call with the guard, she said, but they don't suspect anything."

"Good." Vera shifted in her cage. "Do you know when the breakout's happening?"

Kendra shook her head. "It depends on how long it takes the boys to get organized."

"I see."

"Oh, that reminds me," Kendra remembered, "Ella gave me a message for you. She said to tell you that she wrote you into the plan she gave the guys, so that when they get out of the barracks you'll be a top priority. If they can't find the password for the lock, they'll break the cage open somehow." She paused. "She also says that there's no strings attached once you're free. You've held up your end up the bargain, so we'll hold up ours."

Vera nodded solemnly. "I'll be ready when the time comes."

Once the wrappers were discarded and Kendra was gone, Vera used the silence to mull over her situation. So, Ella was doing poorly. Huh. An odd feeling was stirring inside of Vera, one that she was not used to experiencing. She wasn't actually getting _sentimental_ about Max's kid sister, was she?

_Snap out of it, Vera,_ she told herself, _you have more important things to worry about._ A chance to escape was coming up soon, however slim it might be, and Vera wasn't going to lose focus now, when it mattered most.

* * *

><p>The rain was never going to stop falling, Iggy decided. The sky was just going to keep on pouring, and pouring, until this little force field bubble was filled to the top with water. It had been storming endlessly for four days straight already, which meant that he was still grounded and Ella was just out of Iggy's reach, the pouring rain effectively holding both of them hostage. It was maddening, really.<p>

Tired of hiding away all day long, Iggy walked along the shoreline with Gazzy by his side, feeling the torrent of raindrops soak his hair and slide down his face. He could hear thunder rumbling loudly in the distance, which of course meant that there must be lightning nearby. Iggy knew he shouldn't even be outside in this weather, let alone up in the air, but there were times that he was tempted to throw caution to the wind and take off in the middle of this storm.

Of course, that's when he would remember that one time he had to fly in the middle of a hurricane, and that if he went flying like a maniac into the storm clouds Gazzy would fly right into the sky with him. No, flying in this weather would just get them both killed. He needed to wait for better flying conditions.

"It's such a bare-looking place," Gazzy commented as he gazed at the island in the distance, "I see some pine trees and the factory, but the rest just looks like rocks and dirt. Of course, the rain makes it kind of blurry."

Iggy _hmmm_'d thoughtfully. "Are you sure you don't want to stay behind, Gaz?" he asked his young friend. "You don't have to go."

"No, I'm going," Gazzy replied with certainty, "There's no way I'm letting you do this alone." They both knew that trying to persuade the Gasman otherwise was pointless, so they fell silent on the subject.

"I wonder if she's alright," Iggy murmured thoughtfully, almost too quiet to be heard over the rain.

"She's been gone for about a month, I think," was the Gasman's grim estimation. "Do you think that place is like the School?"

"I hope not," Iggy sighed, "Because if it is..." he didn't finish, because he knew they were both thinking the same thing: if that place was anything like the School, there's no way Ella would come out of there unchanged. She might not even be alive. "We still have to try," he was adamant, "You never leave family behind."

"I think Max would be proud of us," Gazzy said, "if she was here."

"Maybe," Iggy turned towards the island, staring it down with blind eyes, "but let's make her prouder yet." Then he and Gazzy left the beach to take shelter again.

* * *

><p>The days following my final rendezvous with Craig were the slowest, most miserable days of my life. It was like I had just run a marathon and then caught a bad flu times ten. Every time I thought the pain couldn't get any worse it did, and before long I felt so bad it was all I could do to crawl to the bathroom every few hours. I was determined to fight when the time to escape came, though; even if I was hooked up to an IV or dying in a hospital bed, when the cavalry came charging in I'd be up and fighting with the best of them.<p>

There were times, though, when I doubted that I'd even live long enough to see the breakout. The virus' usual symptoms were bad enough, but I could tell that something else was wrong now. Something felt worse; it felt... different. Something inside of me had changed, and I was scared to admit what it could be.

It was five days after the plan transfer when Kendra finally returned with the news: the guys were organized and ready to go tonight. Moving was agonizing by then, but I still managed to prop myself up into an upright position and smile encouragingly at everyone. "This is it," I whispered, "Tonight we're not holding anything back."

"Do you really think we can do this, Ella?" Heidi asked, eyes wide and frightened. I could tell she was having trouble wrapping her mind around the realization that we were finally going to go through with this.

"We're going to make it," I declared firmly, "We've come too far to lose now."

I warned everyone to keep quiet for now, to avoid talking about tonight so that the guard wouldn't overhear our plans. It was hard to stay silent though—seeing the hope in everyone's eyes, knowing that we were finally going to take a stand for ourselves, it made the atmosphere in that barrack more optimistic than it had been in weeks. Now we weren't just waiting around for the end to come; we were conserving our energy, saving our strength for the big takeover. It was an unspoken source of pride and empowerment for all of us.

A collective breath of excitement escaped from the barrack when the lights flickered out for the night. I knew I should sleep while I could, especially in my sick state, but I was way too nervous and excited to get any shuteye. It was like Christmas Eve, and I was the child who had too much pent up anticipation to relax. The time ticked by painfully slowly that evening, and there was nothing more than I wanted to hear than the sound of our self-made cavalry storming in.

"Remember the plan," I uttered when the guard was out of earshot, "The other girls will have no idea what's going on, so we have to guide them. Tell them that we're taking over, and to attack anyone who's an adult. Also, grab anything that could be used as a weapon." There was a low murmur of agreement, and then the room returned to silence.

For ages I lay there in the agonizing darkness, impatient, in pain, and nearly anxious enough to start screaming. The wait was killing me! I wanted so badly to jump off of my bunk right about then, tear my way through that electric fence and start swinging at the first person that came my way, but I couldn't. Not yet. _Just a little longer, _I reminded myself, taking another ragged breath, _they'll be here any minute now._

And that's when finally, after all the sneaking, scheming, and waiting I had done in the last few weeks, I could hear a noise echo down the hallway. It was a faint shouting noise; quiet, but growing louder by the second. It was the sound of freedom.


	18. Chaos

I am officially one of those terrible people who don't update for weeks at a time. *sigh* Sorry, folks, life has been busy, but with only a few chapters left I'm really going to try to get these out on time. (Thanks to all of you who reviewed, by the way!) Hopefully there's still

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><p><strong>17 - Chaos<strong>

I could hear all the girls in the barracks growing restless as the rioting noise became louder and louder, the shouts of angry men and violent boys commingling with sounds of violence and struggling. Those guys were fighting hard and moving fast, and already my adrenaline was pumping in anticipation of the breakout.

Our guards grew uneasy and went off to investigate the noise, leaving us girls unattended. Then the lights flickered on in the hall, and the barracks filled with anxious chatter and pandemonium. "Stay calm, everyone!" I shouted as loud as I could, making my way towards the front of the barrack, "We're going to get out of here, but you have to be ready to fight your way out and to take orders!" I didn't know if anyone heard me, but my bunkmates stood around me steadfastly, standing there with eerily calm expressions on their faces as I continued to shout instructions to anyone who would listen.

Then the lights blacked out again, and nervous talking turned into terrified screaming.

"Stay calm!" I repeated, "We're going to be rescued!"

No sooner had I spoken did a group of silhouetted figures appear at the end of the hallway, and they quickly began opening barrack gates and giving out instructions to girls as they filed out into the hall. "The fences are shut off now!" someone shouted, "If you see a guard or a doctor attack! Use anything you can as a weapon!"

"Craig!" I shouted, making my way through the crowd, "Is that you?"

"Ella!" he replied, pulling me out of the mob by the arm, "Everything's going great so far! Everyone really got on board with things."

"Is there anything you need me to do?" I asked.

"Can you get a group together and stand guard outdoors? We have to make sure nobody gets to the boats, and we need all the help we can get!"

"Sounds good!" Already the anxious girls around me were starting to calm down and organize, with Craig's guys and my girls directing them on what to do next. The hallway still sounded like a shouting match, but it was just like what I saw on TV, when they talked about how when a plane crashes the flight attendants have to be assertive to get the people unloaded more quickly. Everyone here was scared out of their wits and confused about what to do, so they needed some firm orders to get them going.

"Hey, you over there!" I called to one girl who looked about thirteen, "Come with me, we're standing guard outside!" I picked out several other stragglers from the crowd, and together we made our way through the building.

"Hey, where's an exit?" I asked a boy who was standing near a pile of fold-out chairs. "We're on outdoor patrol."

"Down the hall," he replied, handing me a chair, "Here, take this. If you see an adult, don't be afraid to bash them over the head." He handed chairs to the other girls and then we kept going.

As soon as I stepped into the cool night air I felt invigorated. The air was damp and the ground was soaking, like there had just been a big rain storm, and the sting of cold against my skin killed a little bit of the burning heat I felt in my aching innards. There wasn't any time to stop and enjoy the evening, though.

We quickly found the dock, which was only a few yards away and seemed to have all the boats still at their moors. There were some guys standing guard there, but they were itching to go patrolling the island so we relieved them of their duty. I positioned everyone so we had all angles covered—nobody was going to slip past us. All of us were shivering in our sleeveless shirts and bare feet, but I was impressed by how well all the girls held their ground. The guys had taken out most of the staff in the initial wave, but a couple of times a doctor tried to slip past us and get to the boats. They failed miserably, and were quickly dragged back into the building by the boys.

We stood there for hours, cold and exhausted, but I assured everyone that the worst was almost over. The sun had risen at some point, because what was once a dark, inky sky was now a grey swirl of thick rain clouds overhead.

"Hey, you guys!" It was the guy in charge of the boys' patrol group, a lanky guy with sandy brown hair.

"Yeah?" I replied.

"We need help searching the trees over there," he pointed to the dense clump of trees not too far from the dock, "A guard slipped away and we think he's hiding in there."

I nodded. "Kris, Theresa, come with me. The rest of you stay on patrol." We joined the group and headed towards the trees with the others. When we got there the group split up and ventured into the prickly grove of pines.

"If you see him start shouting!" the patrol leader called out.

As I made my way through the grove I felt like I was being engulfed by the trees, with massive pine branches scraping at me from all directions. I couldn't see anything but prickly green, and I grimaced as my tangled hair got caught on an overhand branch. "There'd better not be pine sap in my hair," I grumbled, reaching up to free myself from the pine needles.

Before I could so much as take another step, however, a hand clasped around my mouth and a blade was pressed against the side of my neck. "Make another move and it will be your last," the harsh voice whispered in my ear, causing me to swallow nervously and frightened tears to well up in my eyes. _Something tells me I just found the missing guard._

I didn't dare fight the guard as he ushered me out of the pine grove and away from the patrol group, who had left the path from the trees to the boats exposed. The girls guarding the docks were the first to spot me, and they froze in fear when they saw that the guard had a knife to my throat.

"Make a sound or get in my way," he uttered to them, "and she'll be dead before you can even take a step. Now move!"

Wordlessly the girls stepped to the side and let the guard pass, watching with wide eyes as he walked towards the boats with me still in toll. I cast them desperate gazes, silently pleading with them not to let this man escape. Didn't they realize we were all dead anyways if he got back to the mainland? But seeing them standing there in the grey morning light, shivering and terrified, I remembered that they weren't warriors or fighters or anything like that. They were just scared, sickly kids—that's all that any of us were.

I was led roughly down the dock to the nearest boat, and without so much as a warning he shoved me onto the deck and then jumped in, leaving me sprawled face-down and dazed by the sudden impact. My inner pains had been somewhat muted before by the evening's adrenaline, but now my burning innards churned with raw pain and I stifled a scream, and my body clenched as I the boat's engine sputtered to life. I was too sore and scared to lift myself up and look, but I could feel the boat slipping away from its mooring and floating out onto the choppy ocean waves.

_You can't let him escape,_ I urged myself, _Stop him or everyone else dies too! _It hurt to even lift my head off the deck, but I knew I couldn't just lie here and let the guard escape. Biting down hard on my lip I raised myself onto my hands and knees, then I pushed myself from a kneeling stance into an almost standing position—I was still hunched over because of my newly agitated abdominal pains. With the guard turned away from me as he stood at the helm, I figured I could catch him off guard, maybe steal the knife he was holding. It wasn't a plan that was likely to work, but it was the only one I had.

As I took my first steps towards him the rain started to come down, the patter of the heavy raindrops helping to disguise my cautious footfalls. When I got about halfway to the guard, however, I realized that caution was pointless, and that if this was my last stand I was going to make it a struggle.

I ran at the guard and jumped onto his back.

Even though it was clear he hadn't been expecting it, my surprise advantage wasn't enough to give me the upper hand. The guard ripped me off of him like I was a pesky two-year-old and pinned my arms behind me, and even though I could feel his knife brushing against my wrists I knew I couldn't reach it.

"Let me go!" I shouted, fighting against him with any remaining energy I had.

"Stop struggling!" he ordered, trying to hold me still.

"You have to turn the boat around," I pleaded desperately, "Can't you see what they're doing to us? Please, just this once, show some humanity!" His grip held fast, but I continued to resist, and with my legs I tried kicking at the controls to mess things up.

The guard dragged me away from the controls, livid at this point. "Be quiet and sit still or I'll throw you into the water!"

"I'd rather die!" I shrieked as he dragged me closer to the edge, the heavy rain soaking us both.

"Then so be it!"

Before I even had time to register what was happening I was off the boat and in the water, submerged in the churning sea. The chilly water was paralyzing both mentally and physically, and for a moment I was dazed, but then for a moment I broke the surface, and I gathered enough air to scream, "Help!" The cold was searing, and everything felt terrifyingly numb as I was tossed helplessly by the storm. I barely had another breath's time before a wave pushed me back under, and I found myself totally lost in the dark, lifeless ocean.


	19. A Rescue Too Late?

**18 - A Rescue Too Late?**

Before the last air could escape from my lungs, however, I felt a strong pair of hands grab me by the arms and pull me back to the surface. Someone was in the water with me! "Hang on," the voice shouted to me, "the boat's right here!"

It took me a moment to realize who was carrying me to safety. "Iggy!"

Iggy swam back to the edge of the boat with me in tow, where Gazzy was waiting to help hoist me back onboard. I was chilled to the bone as I lay down on the deck, and yet my internal organs radiated pain and heat like never before. My breaths came in gasps, and I tried to remain calm. Whatever was going on inside, getting thrown into the ocean certainly didn't help anything.

Gazzy covered me with a blanket and then handed one to Iggy, who had pulled himself back onboard. He was shivering and worried, but he looked glad to see me. "Ella, are you alright?"

"Iggy..." Tears started running down my face, and I was too scared to answer his question.

"Shhh," he told me, taking my hand and squeezing it comfortingly, "You're alright now, everything's okay."

"Th-the guard," I stammered, "Is he—"

"He's unconscious," Iggy explained, "and Gazzy's over at the controls, trying to figure out how to steer this thing."

"We have to go back to the island," I told him urgently, "They need to know that the guard didn't escape to tell mainland about the takeover."

"The takeover?" Iggy raised his eyebrows.

I grinned wearily. "I know, right?"

But just as I was starting to feel marginally calm I felt a sharp, stabbing pain in my gut, and I whimpered loudly. My muscles tensed, and it became painful even to breathe. Something was really wrong—it had never hurt this bad before. A wave of nausea hit me, and I struggled not to throw up or start wailing.

"Ella, what's wrong?" Iggy asked, before calling to the Gasman, "Gazzy, find a first aid kit!"

"I-I can't," another sharp wave of pain, and I couldn't bear to talk. It hurt to the point I was paralyzed by my own pain. "The island," I managed to order, "Go!"

Gazzy walked over with the first aid kit, which Iggy quickly took from him and opened up. "Gaz, can you get this ship turned around? Ella needs to go back to the island."

"What?" he exclaimed, "But I thought—"

"It's safer than the shore," Iggy told him, "now come on!" Gazzy complied and went back to the helm, and Iggy's attentions turned back to me. "Just hang on, Ella, we'll be there soon."

I know people say that intense agony can make you faint, but if anything pain will keep you awake—I was so hyperaware that the only thing I could feel or comprehend was the pain itself, because everything else was drowned out by its intensity. Instead of falling deeper into the unconsciousness I so badly wanted, I kept falling deeper and deeper into the pain. And after everything that had happened, I wasn't sure if I'd ever come back out of it.

* * *

><p>I must have fallen asleep at some point, because I woke up sometime later on a bed that smelled like disinfectant, and I could feel an IV had been jammed into my arm. <em>What happened to me? <em>I wondered, daring to pry open my eyes. I blinked a few times to adjust to the brightness, the harsh florescent lights burning overhead. I was in a hospital room, it seemed, and Iggy was sitting nearby in a chair.

"Ella," Iggy stood, moving to my bedside, "You're awake."

"Yeah," I replied quietly, "How long was I out for?"

"Three days," Iggy replied, "Between the virus, the exhaustion, the shock from the cold water, and the acute appendicitis, you needed the rest."

I blinked a few times. "Did you just say appendicitis?" I reached down and felt around my abdomen. Sure enough, there was a bandage down there, presumably covering up stitches. The pain had also greatly subsided, I noticed.

Iggy nodded. "They didn't notice it before because the symptoms for appendicitis are so similar to the virus' symptoms, but the doctor was able to treat you when he realized your appendix had burst."

"What doctor?" I asked.

"One of the island doctors," he explained, "We decided to put them to good use. Under close supervision, of course."

"Oh." So this was part of the island compound, apparently. "Was he able to... I mean, did he check to see if I _changed_ at all?" My back was as wingless as ever, but had all my worst symptoms really only been appendicitis?

"He checked," Iggy replied, "and congratulations, you're as un-mutated as ever." He cracked a smile, and I breathed a deep sigh of relief. I was definitely still entirely human, and I couldn't have been happier about it.

"And what about everyone else?"

Iggy's face grew solemn when I asked that question. "We've had the whitecoats working on most of the other survivors," Iggy told me, "About sixty of you have stayed unchanged, and the virus is gone from almost all of you now. Another thirty or so have some dormant human-avian genes in them, but they didn't actually mutate."

"But that's only ninety kids," I pointed out, "There were way more of us than that, when we started—twenty kids a barrack."

"Another fifty kids survived the mutation," Iggy informed me, "Their wings are almost fully formed now."

"That's one hundred and forty," was my impatient calculation, "How many of us were there to begin with?"

Shuddering slightly, Iggy replied, "There were four hundred of you, Ella. Most of the kids' bodies just shut down when the mutations took over."

I blinked back tears, knowing not only that I hadn't been able to save everyone, but that many of my bunkmates—my friends—would be counted among the dead. I had failed them all. "I want to see the mutated ones," I declared, "We need to ID the survivors so we can figure out who the victims are."

"We'll do that," Iggy nodded, "But we should probably tell Vera and Craig you're awake first."

"Vera's here?" I asked Iggy, surprised she had stuck around.

"Yup," he confirmed, "In fact, she's been the one helping to hold this place together while you've been down and out. Right now, though, you're the one that everyone wants to hear from."

"Me? Why?"

"You're the one who masterminded this whole thing, didn't you? Everybody is talking about what you did. You're practically legendary!"

"I don't feel legendary," I replied, blushing. Shakily I sat up on the edge of my bed, trying to gauge whether or not I could walk.

"Here, I'll help," Iggy allowed me to shift some of my weight onto him. "And whether you feel like it or not, everyone out there thinks you're a hero, Ella, and they're all looking to you for direction."

"Oh, wow." _Talk about overwhelming._

"Come on," Iggy urged me, guiding me towards the door, "everyone's gathered in the central hallway."

"I don't think I can do this."

"I know you can," he squeezed my shoulder reassuringly, "Now let's go; don't make the blind guy drag you there." I smiled at that, and together we headed out into the hallway.

Gazzy, Vera, and Craig were standing together a ways down the corridor. Their faces lit up when they saw me and Iggy walking towards them. "There she is!" Vera exclaimed with a grin, "You sure picked a bad time to take a nap."

I smiled. "Sorry about that."

"Are you feeling okay now?" Craig asked, "Everybody's been asking about you."

"I'm fine. Iggy tells me we've been here three days. Have you been radioing in to mainland on schedule?"

"Yup," he confirmed, "Your buddy the Gasman even loaned his voice to the cause, imitating one of the doctors. Those suckers on the mainland don't suspect a thing." He beamed at me, "Funny how you forgot to mention that Maximum Ride is your sister and you're close pals with the rest of her Flock."

"Must have slipped my mind," I replied innocently. Then I paused, listening to the unsettled chatter that was echoing from around the next bend. "Now, to face the masses," I muttered, separating myself from Iggy and moving towards where the rest of the group was waiting.

The moment I stepped out into the main hall everyone rushed towards me at once, surrounding me—all these kids, both older and younger, were turning to me for leadership. "Alright, alright!" Vera called out from behind me, "Everyone back off before you suffocate her!" She wedged herself into the crowd and shoved a couple people back to give me some space. The rest of them get the message and backed away.

"Thanks," I told Vera. Then I turned to address the others. "Alright, everybody!" I began, "So, there were definitely a few close calls during this whole takeover, but in the end you guys all came through.

"Of course," I continued, "there's still a lot left to do. We need to figure out how to get everyone back home, and maybe try to contact the families of the people who didn't survive." I grimaced, and everyone in the crowd stirred glumly at the thought. "But we'll worry about that later. Right now you all just kill time and handle whatever tasks have already been assigned while you wait for further instructions." I paused, then added, "I'm really proud of all of you, guys. What we did as a team... it was incredible. Never forget what we did; never forget that even kids like us are capable of doing great things."

Everyone cheered and applauded when I was finished speaking, and I could feel my cheeks growing hot. I retreated out of the crowd and back to the corridor before muttering to Iggy, "There, I did it. Now can we go see the new mutants?"

"Incredible," Iggy applauded, "If I didn't know better, I'd have thought you scripted that pep talk."

"Shut up," I said good-naturedly, trying not to smile too brightly at the compliment.

My girlish glee was quickly mellowed when Vera and Iggy led me to the room of newly winged kids. The room was huge and filled with shirtless teens lying on their stomachs in hospital beds, their bodies shivering beneath thin blankets and their backs covered with blood-crusted gauze.

"The doctors said that the last of them are almost fully developed," Vera explained as we walked, "and that if we cut the sleeping drugs and get them eating they could all be flying by the end of next week."

"Unbelievable," I uttered.

Iggy shook his head. "This is a new level of low, even for whitecoats."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw one of the kids stir, and I turned to look at them. It was a girl, pale and sandy-haired, who looked like she had been wasting away in that hospital bed for weeks. I stared at her for a couple of seconds, puzzled, before I realized I recognized her. _Megan. _She was frighteningly skinny now, her curvy figure having been replaced with the thin, elongated structure of a human-avian, but it was definitely her.

I dared to venture closer, watching as she quietly stirred to consciousness. "Meagan?" I spoke quietly, nudging her a couple of times. Sleepily Megan's eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at me.

"Ella?" she croaked, "What... where am I?"

"It's kind of complicated," I winced, "but you're going to be alright. Just get some more rest, okay?"

"I'm hungry," she said groggily, "I feel like I could eat a train."

"That sounds about right," Iggy muttered.

I quickly shushed him. "We'll get you some food soon, but for now you should go back to sleep."

Meagan gave a small sigh of agreement, and she quickly dozed off again. "She's sure in for a surprise when she wakes up again," I muttered, feeling the tears well up in my eyes.

"I'm sorry, Ella." Iggy put his hand on my shoulder, while Vera stood there silent.

"And she's one of the lucky ones," I went on, sniffling.

"It's going to be alright," he reassured me, "You're safe now."

"Am I?" My voice quivered as I spoke. "Am I ever going to be really, truly safe ever again?" I wanted to stop feeling weak, to stop breaking down like this, but I couldn't. I felt so helpless and pathetic at that moment, as the tears slid down my cheeks and I started to cry.

To my surprise, at that moment Iggy pulled me into a hug and whispered, "It's okay, Ella. Everything is going to be okay." He stroked my hair and held me close, trying to console me.

"I shouldn't cry," I choked, "Max wouldn't have cried."

"But you're not Max," was Iggy's reply, "You never had to be Max. Just be yourself, Ella, don't ever try to be anyone else."

Despite the tears I smiled, burying my face in his shirt. "Thank you." And for a while I just stayed there, crying in Iggy's arms. He was right; for a little while at least, I was safe.


	20. A New Chapter

Final update! I'm posting the last three parts today for your reading enjoyment. ^_^

Regrettably, though, I do have to announce that this will, in all likeliness, be my final fanfiction posted to the website. I've had some good times with my stories, but between school and other projects and the decline in traffic in the archive, I just can't justify the time and resources it would take to continue my saga. But hey, I totally encourage the rest of you to contribute your own stories to the MR archive-things have been pretty flat in recent months, but back in the day there used to be some pretty cool stories posted here. Come up with some new ideas, break a few cliches, make things interesting around here! I bet you guys could come up with some really cool plots of your own. :) (Oh, and as I've mentioned before, this story is a prequel to my other fanfic. Check it out for further reading!)

Anyways, enjoy these final installments, and please leave your reviews to let me know what you think!

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><p><strong>19 – A New Chapter<strong>

We stayed on Springer Island another two weeks before leaving for shore. During those two weeks all of the new bird kids—who woke up, dazed, weak, and understandably upset—built up their strength and started the long process of adjusting to life with wings. The handful kids who had mutated last minute were all dead by the eighth day; they hadn't been able to finish fighting the virus and none of them had taken well to the mutations, and so it was only a matter of time before their bodies started malfunctioning and shut down. My friends Erin and Bailey were among them. Sometimes I wonder if they would still be alive if I had done something differently, if I had broken everyone out faster somehow.

I kept everyone busy—myself included—by organizing the digging of a huge mass grave. It's ironic, I know, but working on the grave gave everyone something that could take their minds off of everything that had happened to them. I had no idea if we could make a pit anywhere close to big enough to fit all the bodies, what with us being a group of ragtag kids armed with only buckets and cups for shoveling, but it was a welcome distraction. We could burn some bodies if we needed to, but we had to kill time while everyone made a full recovery. Even the weak, recovering kids took turns scooping out dirt.

One evening, when everyone had gone inside for the day, I decided to take a short reprieve at the bottom of the pit, welcoming the calm and quiet of the evening. Physically I was feeling pretty great these days, but I was exhausted and filthy after a long day of rearranging soil with a Tupperware dish, and I couldn't quite bring myself to back to the others just yet. I needed some distance, some time to reflect, and it seemed like the best place to get both was inside a giant hole in the ground.

As it turned out, I didn't wind up with the solitude I had been seeking, but I didn't mind too much. "Ah, the great Ella Martinez takes refuge in the grave," Iggy jumped down next to me, "only to rise up and meet another challenge."

I gave him a half-smile. "It's tempting just to stay down here, sometimes," I told him. My mouth went slack, and I breathed in deeply. "I wonder if it's big enough to fit all the bodies yet. We've made progress, but there's a lot of them to fit down here."

Iggy took a seat next to me, leaning against the side of the pit. "You saved over a hundred lives, Ella."

"But there were four hundred of us to start with," I reminded him, feeling a familiar despair well up inside of me. Four hundred kids came to Springer Island, ages twelve to eighteen, and now two hundred sixty-one of them were gone. Less than a third of us had survived the experiment. "Why am I still alive, Iggy?" I struggled to keep my tears in check, not wanting to start another sob fest. "Why did I make it and they didn't? Why is Max missing and I'm still here?"

"I don't know," Iggy answered, taking my hand comfortingly, "But whatever the reason, I'm glad you are here. Even if you do have a classic case of survivor's guilt." He grinned at me, and despite my dark mood I felt my spirits lighten.

"So, how have the flying lessons been going?" I asked him, changing subjects. Iggy and Vera had been assigned to helping the new bird kids adjust to things and teaching them how to fly.

"Not bad," he acknowledged, "Considering they haven't even had their wings for a month, they're making huge progress. And I think your friend Meagan has a crush on me; she keeps asking me for extra flying advice." An impish expression crossed his face, and I tried to repress a twinge of jealousy.

"Sounds fun." I said wryly, "In the meantime, I'm still trying to figure out how to get everybody home."

"The Gasman hasn't found anything else?" Lately Gazzy had been going out on daily mainland excursions, scouting out supplies and transport we could make use of, but so far nothing substantial had turned up.

"Nope," I replied glumly, "Transportation is still a nightmare out there. Gazzy says you can barely go fifty miles without running into a fence. I suppose we could find some way to fly people around, but with only fifty or so klutzy fledglings on our hands and close to ninety wingless kids in need of a ride, I don't see how we can get them home in the immediate future." I sighed, "Also, I get the feeling that lots of them don't want to just go back home. I know I don't."

"What do you mean?" Iggy asked.

"People died here, Iggy, people I got to know, people that became like a temporary family. My life was in danger every single day, and I had no idea what was going to happen to me or when it was going to happen. At first I felt like all I could do was endure it hour by hour, but then when we managed to do something about it," taking a deep breath, I went on, "I realized I wasn't so helpless after all. I could do something about what was happening; I didn't have to stand by and watch it happen.

"And now that I'm out of that place, and smack dab in the middle of a world that's turned into some sort of nightmare, I feel like I'm still in a prison, except now I know that I can fight it. I don't want to wait and see what happens to me next; I want to do something to change things."

"What are you going to do?"

"Well, I've been thinking about it," I explained to him, "and it struck me that there's probably more complexes just like this one, all of them with different experiments going on. So I thought that maybe, if enough of the others agreed to it, we could form a team of some sort and break people out of these facilities. We could sabotage this new Supremacy government, make it harder for them to take over the world. After all, if we don't stand up to them, who will?"

Iggy was quiet for a moment, as he processed everything I had just said. "Wow," he finally replied, "that was deep."

"I sound like some sort of action hero wannabe, don't I?" I said bashfully.

"Nah," Iggy told me, "I like your idea. You're right; we shouldn't take this stuff lying down."

I looked up at him. "You mean that?"

"Absolutely." He smiled at me. "Sign me on, because I want to be there when you overthrow the government and save the world."

Laughing, I accused, "Now you're just teasing me!"

"After what you did here at the complex, I think anything's possible with you." Iggy grinned. "So really, go for it. See if there's anyone else willing to join forces with you. Because honestly, if you can organize this many teenagers using a pen and a roll of toilet paper, I think you can do anything you set your mind to."

"Thanks," I said sincerely, "And thank you for rescuing me. If you and the Gasman hadn't been flying over at that exact moment..."

"Any time," he replied, "After all, I hate to let a pretty girl drown."

"I'm flattered," I replied, trying not to sound too eager. _He thinks I'm pretty?_

There was a few moments of silence between us, before Iggy spoke abruptly. "Ella?"

I turned to look at him. "Mmhmm?"

An odd expression crossed his face, like he was unsure about something. "Where do you... what direction do you think our relationship is taking?"

Of course, I was taken aback by the question. "What do you mean?" At that moment I became extremely aware of the fact that Iggy had never let go of my hand, and he was grasping it tighter than ever.

"I mean, do you see us just staying friends, or...?"

"Or are we becoming more than friends." The words terrified me even as I spoke them.

"Right," Iggy went on, looking rather sheepish, "I mean, we've been just friends for a long time—which was good—but now we're both older, and things are different now. Also, almost losing you made me realize," he fell quiet, but then finished, "it made me realize that if I lost you, I'd be losing my favorite person in the world." Then he added, "I think I might have fallen in love with you, Ella. It sounds really cheesy and stupid, but it's true."

"Oh, wow," My brain was barely functioning, "I... I never realized you felt that way." Quietly I reached down and pinched myself. _Yup, definitely still awake._

"Neither did I," Iggy muttered shyly, "I probably sound like an idiot."

"No," I assured him, "it's really sweet of you. I just..." I struggled to find the right words, "I just never thought you'd ever think of me as anything more than a friend."

"Why wouldn't I?" His hazed blue eyes seemed to pierce my soul.

"Because you're so... so _you_. You're strong, and smart, and talented, not to mention you helped save the world! And me... I'm just Max's kid sister." I looked up at him sadly, "I could never be as strong as you or Max."

Taking me gently by the shoulders, Iggy turned my body so I was facing him. "Ella," he said, looking me almost directly in the eye, "You'll never be like Max; not now, not ever. And you know what? I'm glad. I'm glad that you take the time to brush your hair in the morning, and that you don't worry about whether or not the guy standing behind you in the grocery line is an Eraser, and that you're not afraid to reach out to people and tell them how you feel. And you try to help others; not because someone's pressuring you to save the world, but because you want to help. You're kind and energetic and independent and brave, and that's why I like you. You're strong in your own way."

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. "You really think so?"

"I know so," Iggy insisted. "So, will you please do me the honor of being my girlfriend?" He smiled, then added, "Because you know, after pouring my heart and soul out like that, I'd look pretty stupid if you said no."

"Well we don't want that, now do we?" I grinned at him, "Yeah, I'll be your girlfriend."

"Thank you." A mixture of relief and elation crossed Iggy's face, which was followed by a pondering, almost nervous expression. "Then, could I...?" he brought his hands up to my face, feeling me, _seeing_ me. He ran his thumb gently over my lips, and that was when I realized what he wanted.

"Go for it," I told him quietly, letting him feel my smile. Slowly, Iggy leaned forward, leaning down while I craned upwards, and at that moment his lips met with mine. Our first kiss.

"I think you're amazing," I managed to speak when we'd pulled apart, my heart fluttering at high speed.

Iggy grinned at me. "Funny, I could've sworn I've heard you say that before. Did we do this earlier and forget about it?" I laughed, then leaned in and kissed him again.


	21. What Next?

**20 – What Next?**

In the end we got the chance to bury our dead. Our tools had been inefficient and we had all been half-sick the first week or so, but we managed to get the grave dug and to fit all the bodies inside. Everyone helped with the burial, carrying the sheet-covered corpses outside and lowering them into the ground.

Anna was one of the bodies we were putting to rest; Craig had found her earlier that morning, when he was making a list of all the dead kids' names, and so we both stopped to pay our respects before she was added to the featureless stack of shrouded bodies. She was just one of the many friends I was saying goodbye to that day, since only seven of the twenty girls I'd shared a barrack with were still alive: Cammie, Rachel, and Megan had wings, while Heidi, Kendra, and Cara were still human. Cassandra had some bird genes in her somewhere, but she seemed normal.

We ditched the island a few hours after the burial. Mainland had radioed in the day before, saying that a government representative would be arriving next week on behalf of the Supremacy council to inspect experimental progress, so we had to get off the island as soon as possible. Our group had already overstayed our welcome as it was, with the facility's food supplies dwindling and the possibility of being discovered by a surprise visitor looming over our heads all the time. It was quite a task, smuggling over a hundred kids to shore with a few tiny vessels, but we managed it. I swear, I've never been more excited to get off a boat than I was when we were leaving Springer Island.

The rest of the night was spent walking in total silence along the shoreline, trying to get as far away from that place as possible, while Vera and Gazzy flew ahead looking for shelter. All of us crammed into an abandoned building that first morning, just as the sun was starting to rise, and rested there until it was dark again. We repeated the process, walking at night and hiding by day, until we had wandered deep into the woods, where I was sure those clone officers—Iggy and Gazzy called them Collectors—would never come looking for us.

Roughing it out in the wilderness wasn't exactly pleasant, but it was peaceful. Other than a few wild animals and some poison ivy here and there, it was safe. The flying kids had scavenged up enough tents and tarps to keep everyone sheltered at night, and between their regular excursions and the food-finding groups led by our handful of ex-Boy Scouts we were able to keep everyone pretty well fed. It was hard work, but nobody minded much; if anything, it was a welcome distraction as we waited to make our next move.

A lot of the older kids supported my offensive strike idea. After everything they'd been put through, and everything we'd done to fight back, they didn't like the idea of letting the Supremacy get away with these things any more than I did. They wanted to hunt down other facilities like the one on Springer Island, to sabotage the Supremacy and rescue kids who were like them. Most of the bird kids got onboard too; they were hot targets now that they were mutants, and safety was in numbers. Also, I think they were a little scared of what their families would think of them now that they had wings.

There were still plenty of others who wanted to go home, though, namely the younger kids in the group. Even Craig said he wanted to return home when he got the chance. I was sad that he'd be leaving, since he'd been so helpful, but I knew that losing his sister had been hard. He wanted to get back to his dad and older brother as soon as possible.

Of course, figuring out how to get everyone back home was a whole other dilemma, with all the fences and the lack of vehicles making transportation a nightmare—especially for a bunch of fugitives. I hoped that Angel might offer her mind control services to help with the dilemma, once she arrived here. Iggy and Gazzy had left a few days back to find her, Nudge, my mom and the dogs. Hopefully they would all be alive and well and waiting for the guys at the airport, like they'd agreed to when they split up. I had been a bit anxious of course, being apart from Iggy again so soon, but when he was leaving he'd reassured me confidently, "Hey, I haven't come this far just to lose you now." With any luck, he and the others would be arriving back any day.

There was only one person left who hadn't taken up a task or decided what she was going to do next, and that was Vera. I was walking through the woods one afternoon when I found her sitting up in a tree with a contemplative expression on her face, like she was trying to make up her mind about something.

"Mind if I join you?" I asked, climbing up into the tree's lower branches and working my way up.

Vera looked down at me and smirked. "Are you sure the lemmings will be alright without you there to boss them around?"

"They're preoccupied at the moment." I sat down next to her. "So, what are you doing?"

"Thinking about leaving. If I wanted to, I could spread my wings and never think about your motley crew even again."

"I know," I said plainly, "Just like you could have taken off on Springer Island instead of staying behind to help us."

"You thought I would ditch, didn't you?" Vera answered with a sardonic smile, "Sorry, predictable was Max's thing."

"You're definitely not Max, that's for sure," I muttered, trying not to grin.

Vera gave me a hard glare. "What are you saying?"

"Nothing," I replied innocently, "just thinking out loud. So, what will you do if you end up leaving?"

Vera shrugged. "I'll find somewhere isolated to settle down, maybe on a mountain or something. I'll live off the land for a few years, then move into the city, somewhere rundown with lots of hot-headed teenagers to start fights with."

"Really?" I stared at her incredulously. "That sounds like a stupid way to spend your life."

Vera glared at me again, irritated by my brash opinions. "Funny, for a minute it seemed like you weren't afraid of me. But we both know better than that."

"Guess again," I said wryly, "I haven't been scared of you for a long time." If there was one thing I'd learned spending time around Vera, it was that nine times out of ten she was all talk.

That time, however, was apparently that last one out of ten. Vera snarled and pushed me out of the tree, sending me plummeting to the leafy ground below. (It's a good thing it wasn't a very tall tree.) I moaned softly, and Vera rolled her eyes. "Geez, humans are so fragile." She jumped down and stood there, watching me clamber back onto my feet.

"Still not scared of you," I wheezed, trying to catch my breath.

"Why?" Vera glowered at me, her body tensed angrily, "Why are you so sure that I won't snap you like a twig and leave you here for someone else to deal with?"

"Because," I stood up off the ground, "I finally figured out what Max had that you didn't. And I know that you want it."

"Oh?" Vera's expression didn't falter. "And what exactly is that?"

"People." Standing up as tall as I could, I looked her straight in the eyes and said, "Everything Max ever did was for other people. She cared about people, and people cared about her. That's why she wouldn't kill you: because in some way, she cared about you too."

Vera stood there silently, fists clenched and jaw set. For a moment I was afraid she was going to punch me. "I don't care about anybody," she spat. But seeing her then, all worked up and agitated, I couldn't help but think there was a subconscious second half to that sentence._ I don't care about anybody, and nobody cares about me._ She was so alone, I realized, and she had no idea how to change that.

Of course, showing her pity would have gotten me murdered, so I had to try a slightly different tactic. "But maybe you want to care?" I suggested, "It's alright to need somebody, you know. I needed you back at the facility. And maybe you needed me too."

"I could've escaped on my own," Vera muttered, but her stance had relaxed and her eyes were downcast, like she wasn't really focused on arguing anymore.

"Look, I want us to be friends," I told her, "and I want you to help me lead. I need someone reliable who knows how take charge, and you were great on Springer Island." I gave her a pleading look. "If you're not ready to need someone, maybe you're at least ready to be needed?"

Vera stopped to consider, her eyes darting between me and the ground as she considered the situation. Then, "I guess I could stick around for a while. It gives me an opportunity to beat up those sorry clone soldiers the Supremacy created." She smirked, and added, "I have a score to settle with them."

"Shake on it?" I held out my hand, which Vera took firmly. However, instead of shaking I caught her off guard and pulled her into a quick hug. "I'm glad you're staying," I told her with a smile, "Besides, you're Max's clone, and Max is my sister. That kind of makes you my sister too."

"I guess," Vera mumbled, looking extremely uncomfortable.

I began walking back to camp, feeling greatly encouraged. I probably had internal bruising from the fall, I mused, but it was a step in the right direction.


	22. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Nobody involved with the Springer Island enquiry, neither the bureaucratic authorities nor the Collector detectives on-site, knew exactly who General Grieves was. His title, of course, implied that he was a military official, but nobody up or down the ranks had heard so much as a rumor about him—and many an inquisitive official had searched unsuccessfully trying to determine his identity. Whoever he was, though, he came straight from the Supremacy and he was in charge of the investigation, and that was all anybody needed to know about him.

The head Collector investigating the facility reported directly to Grieves when he arrived on the tiny isle, filling him in on what they had learned thus far. "The incident began in the boys' dormitory—we found a written plan in one of the units and smuggled medical supplies in several others. Unit seventeen, where the written plan was hidden, had a hole cut into the security mesh; this was the initial breach. The patients escaped, opened the gates to the other units, and overtook the guards on duty as well as staff members who attempted to contact the mainland. From there they spread out into the rest of the building, freeing the female patients, and together they trapped all the guards and medical staff inside the patients' quarters."

"I see," Grieves commented, eyeing the substandard establishment.

"They spent several more days on the island, recovering from illness and burying expired patients," he gestured to the excavation site, where the bodies were being unearthed, "then they escaped using the boats that were moored at the dock. A total of one hundred and thirty-nine adolescent patients are unaccounted for, including fifty-two successful human-avian conversions. We estimate they've been gone from the island for about a week—somebody rigged up an automatic response device to perform the daily radio check-ins to buy them extra time."

"Is it known who, exactly, instigated the usurpation?"

"We've taken statements from all present staff members," the Collector explained, "and they were under the impression that there were several individuals acting in leadership roles—Craig, Vera, Iggy, Gazzy—but that there was a girl, Ella, who was regarded as the head. It is believed that she devised the written plan."

Grieves frowned at this. "Iggy and Gazzy... those names sound familiar to me." He closed his eyes contemplatively for a moment, then opened them again. "Maximum Ride." Her whereabouts were still unknown currently—perhaps this was her handiwork? Then he also remembered, "You said a girl named Ella was their leader. What was her last name?"

"We assume she was the girl registered as Ella Alverez," the Collector replied automatically, "There were no other patient with that first name."

"Alverez," he repeated to himself, shaking his head. That wasn't right. Maximum's half-sister had a different name, he was certain of that. Ah well, perhaps it was simply a coincidence. "Well, I expect a full report issued by sundown."

"Yes, sir."

Grieves turned away from the clone, and was just about to walk away when he remembered something. "Also," he told the Collector, "once we've gathered all the necessary information, someone must look into contacting the families of the deceased staff for identification purposes."

The Collector looked at Grieves in confusion. "Deceased staff? Sir, there were no—"

"I'm sure they'll be absolutely appalled when they find out that their loved ones were brutally slaughtered and mutilated almost beyond recognition—murdered by a group of dangerous young mental patients they were trying so valiantly to rehabilitate." He gave the Collector a long, hard look. "As well, it is important to warn the general public of how extremely dangerous these patients are, so they will not hesitate to turn them in if they see them."

The Collector nodded firmly. "I will see that it is taken care of," he replied, departing to carry out his orders.

General Grieves took refuge in the facility's head office, sitting at the desk to get a thorough look through the case files he had received upon arriving. This was a relatively minor breach of security, he reminded himself, and these few gutsy children who would soon pay the price for their defiance. Still, he couldn't quite shake the uneasy feeling. This hiccup had succeeded largely due to luck and ridiculously lax security—something he was going to have a word with somebody about—but the plan had still been clever enough to succeed. If this Ella girl turned out to be more than a lucky runaway, and if she really was connected to the elusive Maximum Ride, then the repercussions incident might be far worse than an isolated laboratory slip-up.

But it was an unlikely outcome, Grieves determined. After all, what would a straggly bunch of teenagers do, try and overthrow the government? Highly unlikely.


End file.
